


What Matters Most.

by NoelleWynters



Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 102,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleWynters/pseuds/NoelleWynters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To free a genie always came at a cost, Cyrus knew that from experience.  Although he was loathed to set things right, he had been told once he would be free from his existence as a genie, and he knew this was not how it was to happen.</p><p>Takes place after episode 1x08 <i>Home</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Wishes.

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

If only they had listened, but he knew better than anyone that Alice was stubborn and hard to reason with when she had her mind set on some notion or other. He was never sure if sometimes it was just a clash of her free spirit and his idiosyncrasies from being a genie for so long. As to Will, he had only just met him but could read him well enough to know stubbornness wasn’t just a personality trait for him; it was a way of life. This all could have been avoided if they’d just listened.

He sighed, and laid back down on the bed. He should be happy, but he was not. The initial joy of freedom had worn off when the terrible cost of that wish came to light. As much as he desired freedom he would never want someone else to take his place. Not when it was someone so dear to another, he knew his and Alice’s love ran deep but given the chance he was well aware there was another couple who could rekindle what had obviously been a very bright flame for one another.

The wish might not have been meant to set him free from the bonds of his bottle, but it had had that result. He’d warned Will to be careful, wishes were tricky and they didn’t always turn out as you’d expect. He’d seen so many go awry, and he’d been wished free before only to see that freedom taken away once more. 

This time, as the wish wasn’t worded quite that way, he wasn’t sure what the price would be. One person was already paying for it and Cyrus worried what the cost would be to the other party. It never ended well, for the wisher or the genie, and he did not want to see anything worse befall Alice should some ill fate come for him. She’d already lost a friend, and as he’d told her, he would have gladly spent eternity in his bottle for her sake. He feared what greater heartache could be in store; at least if he were in his bottle it was just a matter of finding each other again. He had been more than prepared to make that sacrifice just to see her live.

He also knew there was only one way he would ever be set free, although it had never been explained to him. All the time he spent alone, watching that compass spin he’d pondered what it could be, but knew that was the point to how ambiguously it was worded: he wasn’t meant to know until it happened.

“Cyrus, are you alright?” a voice asked from his right. He hadn’t even realized he was not alone in the home that had been created for him and Alice to stay safe from all the dangers of the world, although he really should have been aware of that fact.

He glanced over to see the Red Queen, or rather, Anastasia, looking at him with concern in her blue eyes. He could still read the sadness in their depths and he longed to do anything to erase it. She had barely smiled since they’d taken refuge from the world, and she rarely spoke to anyone, not that it mattered. Alice would hardly speak to her and he was the only one that would try to start conversation with the former queen. Alice always inquired as to why, after everything she had done but he understood going to extremes for someone you love. She had hurt so many along the way, but everyone made mistakes and didn’t they deserve forgiveness if they were truly remorseful for what they’d done?

He closed his eyes, to try to shut out her pain. A small part of him still did not want to trust her, after everything she’d done to both him and Alice, but he understood what she’d been after. He’d lived countless lifetimes; he knew how human desires worked. They always wanted exactly what they couldn’t have or longed to rewrite the past. Sadly, when it came to the past it either took a few well chosen words or the door simply had to be closed on the mistakes. Sometimes you simply could not go back and fix it.

But Cyrus intended to fix this. It had been a few weeks since that wish and they’d been hiding from Jafar, who had his sights set on killing Anastasia, not to mention he was searching high and low for the bottle. Neither of those courses of action would work out for the sorcerer, as Anastasia stayed hidden or used her magic to cloak herself and who she was with from sight. As well they had somehow managed to find the bottle, which was a miraculous occurrence in itself.

No one had dared to summon Will out of it, as of yet. Anastasia couldn’t handle the idea of it, she was already broken enough that he had refused her love which baffled Cyrus. Her love ran deep, he could see that. Anyone who would go to the lengths she had tried, just to have him back, obviously felt they needed that person to complete them. He certainly didn’t agree with how she went about it, but someone desperate and in love didn’t always think clearly or could even imagine the far reaching consequences of their actions.

Alice had toyed with the idea, but Cyrus had stopped her. He needed time to think, wishes were tricky and he’d seen so many go wrong. He knew she simply wanted to see her friend again, but he insisted they wait a little longer. He always used the excuse that Jafar could be anywhere and there was no telling how Will was going to react. Thankfully, Alice believed him. He always marveled that she did, as lying had never been his strong suit. Maybe she believed his words because she wasn’t truly ready to see what had become of her friend.

The former genie mused the Knave likely didn’t look overly different, other than the bindings that would keep him tethered to that bottle, but his temperament might be less than desirable. When he’d become a genie he’d grown up with the knowledge of them and what they did, Will on the other hand had been thrust into it by chance and had no idea what was expected of him.

When he’d first been captured he assumed Jafar meant to drain him of his magic, but soon discovered that wasn’t his intentions at all. A spell to change the laws of magic that required three particular genies, that was all Anastasia could tell him. Jafar kept his secrets close, and never told her much. The only information she’d ever gleaned of him, after marvelling the lengths he was going to just to acquire the third genie, was each genie needed had something special about them and no other would do. At first she’d thought maybe there were only three genies left in all the realms, but he’d assured her that wasn’t the case; there were many genies but they were hard to find as whoever came into possessing them would hide them away from the world. Or there were the rare cases of a particular region having their own genie, and getting to those were nigh on impossible as the people were very quick to take arms.

He’d also explained, at her insistence, there were different temperaments of genie as well. Not all were good and compliant wish granting entities as the one they were currently hunting; some were malevolent and would try to trick their master into switching places with them in a bid for freedom. Those were the types that were to be avoided at all costs, for all Jafar’s knowledge he was unsure why some were like that. Anastasia assumed those genies were likely about as heartless as the sorcerer himself.

Now with him free, that spell most likely could not be cast. Cyrus really didn’t understand the particulars of it; spells were not his forte despite being a genie. He didn’t need to know any of that in order to grant wishes, it was the magic within him that did it; he was simply a vessel for which it to work through. He did have to know how to channel it, but the spells in order to grant the wishes were something he had no need to know; once a wish was made it all came to him and the magic did what it needed to do, he just directed it.

Should Jafar acquire the bottle from them, which was not likely to happen but the possibility could never be ruled out, there was no telling how he would react when he discovered someone unexpected inside. Anastasia feared for Will’s life, as there was always the chance the sorcerer would use a wish to put Cyrus back in his bottle, and kill the Knave on the spot once he was mortal again.

He felt the bed dip slightly and opened his eyes to see Anastasia looking at him with concern in hers. It would seem it wasn’t only he who could read people; she appeared to have the talent as well. “I would think freedom would make you happy,” she stated, a frown coming over her face.

“Not at the cost,” he answered flatly. He’d told Will to choose his words carefully, why hadn’t he listened? He could have insisted on giving the wish back to Alice or even just wished them both back to health. There were so many ways that it could have been worded that would not have had such a high cost. And it was a cost he simply could not live with.

“Will never was one to think things through, trust me. He could come up with great plans when there was a need, but sometimes he’d just go on a wing and prayer,” she admitted, making Cyrus laugh a bit. That did make him think of Alice a touch. “I preferred a plan myself, taking things as they come worked sometimes but going in with a solid plan always worked better.”

“You did all this, caused all this pain, solely to have him back?” Cyrus inquired as he looked at her, even though he already knew the answer. He just wanted her to admit it again, before he went through with his plan.

Anastasia nodded, sadness washing over her face again. “I regret what I did all those years ago. But I did it to keep him safe, stealing from the king would have resulted in both our deaths. If I could have found him after marrying the king I would have explained it all but he’d disappeared. By the time I found him again, he’d changed. He was cold, uncaring and not the man I remembered. I fancied if that was how he wanted to be, I could return the favour tenfold. But then I heard of this spell, the idea of being able to change the past was far too alluring. It only took finding you and forcing Alice to use her wishes, it seemed so easy. I should have known nothing of worth ever comes easy.”

“I can assure you there is a volume of truth in that statement,” he said, sitting up on the bed and glancing over at the bottle. He wondered why Will had refused her; there had been nothing but honesty in the words of her confession. How could he be so cold, what had happened to make him that way? Such a short lifespan, Cyrus guessed he wasn’t more than thirty mortal years although it was hard to tell with the way time moved in each realm, but no matter the passage of time, how had he become so unfeeling in such a short time? At one point he must have loved the woman who was willing to do anything to have him back.

“You know, darling, I can almost read your mind. If you do this, you’ll break Alice’s heart,” Anastasia alleged, placing one of her slender hands on his shoulder in a friendly manner. “I don’t matter, my mistakes are my own and now I will pay for them.”

Cyrus shook his head; she didn’t fully understand what that wish had done. “No, you matter, as does Alice and Will. I am the one who does not matter. I understand that life; it is one I have lived for longer than you can comprehend. I may not like it, but it is not something I would wish upon anyone. We all have our place in the world and I am well aware of mine. This mistake is costing more than just you; he will suffer in the end as well.”

“You do yourself a great disservice in doubting your worth in the world, Cyrus. Sometimes it takes only one person to make the whole world for someone. That is what Will was for me; he was my entire world. I threw it away and regretted it. Maybe it was a fool’s errand to try to get it back, I tried so many times to hurt Alice and in the end it would have hurt you as well. Your happiness is more important than mine, you need to know that,” she explained, confusion washing over her face as he shook his head with a touch of a smile.

“Believe it or not, I had a bit of contentment in that bottle,” he softly said, starting to fidget slightly with the pendent Alice had returned to him. He’d never told anyone, not even Alice, how exactly he’d ended up as a genie. All he’d said was at one time he’d been mortal and that he’d had a mother, he never expanded on it and never intended to.

Realization dawned on Anastasia’s face, her blue eyes going wide at the implication behind his words. “Alice mentioned you were born human, you did all this to save someone, didn’t you?” she asked, reaching out and grasping his hands in her shock. She doubted he’d tell her, if he hadn’t even said a word to Alice, it wasn’t like he had a reason to trust her with any confidences.

He simply nodded. “It was a long time ago, it was a burden I took on and I will not allow someone else to live with it. I agreed to it, he did not.”

Anastasia pouted a bit; obviously she wasn’t getting any more out of him. She did hate how he spoke in riddles at times, and wondered if it had something to do with his life as a genie. “There is nothing I can say to stop you?” she inquired, as he shook his head. “I do long to argue this until you agree to see my point of view, but it is more than obvious I’ll be wasting my breath. A selfish part of me gladdens at the thought of what you’re going to do, but I do wish it hadn’t been necessary to start with.”

Cyrus squeezed her hands before letting them go, and then stood and walked over to pick up the bottle that had once been his, and would be again. “Love is making sacrifices. I sacrificed my mortal life for love many lifetimes ago, and although I would rather not put Alice through this heartache I cannot allow Will to live with this burden. I told her life with me would not be easy.”

Anastasia laughed slightly, partially to break the tension in the room and because he’d just brought back a few rather humorous memories of Will with that statement. “Darling, you want a hard life try dealing with Will when he gets his mind stuck on something. Now that is a hard life.”

Cyrus laughed, inwardly thankful that Alice had gone off on some adventure or other. He’d only agreed to her leaving the safety of their hidden home because Anastasia had given her a charm that would cloak her from Jafar as well as any spies he may have, and it would give him a chance to get this over with before she returned.

Anastasia watched pensively as Cyrus walked outside with the bottle that contained the one man she knew she loved more than life itself. She was sad all the events of the past few months had come down to this; why hadn’t Will listened to her? The only person who had absolutely no reason to believe her, and had every reason to hate her, had been the one to show her any trust.

If only they had listened, they wouldn’t be in this place right now.

**********

Cyrus waited patiently, or at least he was certain he was being patient, as Will finally appeared before him in a grey mist. The Knave of Hearts looked a little disoriented, to say the least. He looked around himself for a few moments to get his bearings, and when his eyes finally landed on Cyrus a slightly amused grin crossed his face.

“Well isn’t this adorable,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow questioningly. “That isn’t how you first greet someone who is your master.”

“Oh bloody hell, I’m not spouting off that line,” Will insisted, looking around with a bit of a strange, panicked look in his eyes. “Why the hell did you guys leave me in there so long?”

“That was my fault, partially,” Cyrus confessed, earning himself an exceptionally annoyed look from Will. “Look, you’re a genie right now; you have to follow the rules.”

“Fine, here’s your wishes,” Will said, snapping his fingers a few times before Cyrus found himself holding the familiar little jewels he’d bestowed on many people over the years. It wasn’t exactly how it should be done but he wasn’t going to argue, this was going to be over soon. It did confuse him that Will didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but then again he hadn’t grown up with all that lore around him.

Cyrus looked at the tiny, ruby like wishes in his hand, wondering what all of his masters over the years must have thought when they’d appeared in the palm of their hand. Such tiny things with great possibility, if worded correctly. Even then they could go very wrong, as they were such unpredictable things.

“Why?” Cyrus softly asked, glancing up at Will.

Will looked at him oddly. “Why what? You’re going to have to be more specific, I don’t talk in riddles like you do.”

“Why did you turn her down? Her confessions were from the heart and she was trying to save us all. She loves you,” Cyrus told him, truly curious as to why Will had rebuked her in such a harsh way. He had always believed love was something that needed no proof, so why did Will act as though nothing Anastasia could say or do would ever be enough to prove her love for him?

“I can’t love her,” Will answered, trying to make it obvious by his tone there was no room to debate the topic.

Cyrus looked at him again, trying to figure out why exactly he had turned Anastasia down. Despite being mortal, he still could sense certain things; he had been a magical being for longer than he could remember. It only took him a few minutes longer than usual, but he suddenly realized why Will said he couldn’t love Anastasia again; he had no heart.

‘Well,’ he thought ‘that takes care of the second wish.’

“Are you going to make a bloody wish or are you just enjoying this switch of roles? Because honestly, I don’t understand what you found to do in that bottle, there is absolutely nothing in there,” Will blurted out.

“Sleep, for the most part,” Cyrus told him, grinning. “For my first wish, I wish for Alice, Anastasia and you to be protected from Jafar.”

Will cocked an eyebrow at that request, he thought it odd Cyrus didn’t include himself in that one but fancied it had something to do with all wishes came with a cost. Goodness knows he’d learned that the hard way, he never envisioned this when he’d made that wish, if he had even thought of this outcome he would have worded it different. He snapped his fingers and felt the magic flow through him, and made the assumption it must be done.

“So, I have to go back in there to bore myself to death or do I get to be out and play like you did for a few years?” he asked, to which Cyrus shook his head.

“We’re not done yet,” he informed the Knave, who gave him an exasperated look.

“Really? You can’t save the last two for a rainy day?” he quipped right when Cyrus made his second wish. He didn’t actually hear what was said, but he felt it. First he felt the magic going through him, and suddenly there was a pain in his chest.

He clutched at the space above where his heart should be, and shot Cyrus a look to kill. “You wished me back my heart, I didn’t want that bloody thing!” he snapped, collapsing to his knees upon the grassy ground. “There was a reason I didn’t put it back.”

“Life is full of heartache, you can’t run away from it Will,” Cyrus told him, as Will began to argue with him. He found it hard to believe the man had not put his heart back in, although he had no idea how it had been removed in the first place. He recalled, vaguely, Alice telling of an adventure to retrieve it for the Knave of Hearts, although this was the first he’d put two and two together.

“What happened to all wishes come with a string attached? Doesn’t this seem like a mighty stupid wish to you?” Will moaned, wanting the ache to go away. He’d been telling himself he might one day put his heart back, even though he knew he was lying to himself. Why deal with the pain when you can run from it?

“Selfish wishes always come with a cost, as does the one to wish a genie free. Although with your wish, that was not exactly the intention but for some reason it was the result. But what is done is done, you can no longer run from that heartache, it is time you dealt with it,” Cyrus informed him, fidgeting with the last wish. He really hoped when he said it that it would work; he knew technically he wasn’t wishing Will freedom and nature abhorred a vacuum. The only way for a genie to be free was for someone to take their place. At least, that was how he perceived it as he’d heard of less than kind genies tricking their masters into taking their place, and somehow the roles were never reversed. That brought him to the conclusion if he took Will’s place there would be no consequences.

He halted for a moment, reluctant to voice the last wish. If his reasoning was right, then he could stay free. He could leave Will in this predicament and live out his life as a mortal with Alice. Why should he not? There was no reason he couldn’t, no one else would draw these conclusions or call him selfish. Everyone was aware a genie could not be wished free, how would they know that it took another to take the genie’s place to set the one free? It would be so easy to walk away and leave Will as he was, but Cyrus couldn’t do it. Right then he damned his upbringing and sense of duty. This was his lot in life, he’d agreed to it and he had to see it through until whatever came to pass that would free him for good.

Will glared up at him from where he was kneeling on the ground, his hand still placed over where his heart now was. Anger flashed in his eyes, it should have been his decision if and when he put his heart back. There was no reason he couldn’t continue running form the heartache Anastasia had caused him. “Like hell I can’t run from it. It all was working just fine for me, it isn’t like you can tell me you can understand heartache this bad.”

Cyrus smiled, be it a sad smile. “I can, that is how I became a genie to begin with. My final wish is to take the burden of that life back from you, as it is I who agreed to that become a genie, not you.”

Will’s jaw dropped as he felt the bindings loosen from his wrists, only to disappear from his sight a second later. Along with the pain in his chest he felt a sudden draining, although he hadn’t grown accustom the idea of having magic he still felt it leaving his body. It was a strange sensation, not overly pleasant but he had to admit he was glad to feel all that unwanted magic leaving him.

He glanced up when the last had left him to see Cyrus slowly vanishing in an orange mist, which then went into the bottle he had just left moments earlier. Along with the aching in his chest over all the pain from losing Anastasia a new ache was added; the fact that this was going to destroy Alice.

Slowly he reached out and grabbed the bottle that he was more than happy to be free of, standing up on shaky legs. “Bloody self sacrificing fool, why the bloody hell would you be willing to take all that back? And who the hell agrees to be a genie to start with, I can’t imagine anything or anyone being worth all that.” he grumbled as he walked towards the spot he was certain the door was.

If the pain in his heart over Anastasia didn’t kill him, he was sure Alice would.

**********

Alice smiled brightly as she rushed towards the place she called home in Wonderland. Her plan had worked, the added help of Lizard was essential to it as well, and she’d retrieved what she’d wanted. It was sheer luck she’d run into the girl again, and Lizard was more than up for trying her hand at stealing something from the Caterpillar.

It really was a fool’s errand to try to take anything from the oversized insect, but once Alice had figured out what exactly Cyrus had given up for her she knew she had to get it back. She could tell he was having a bit of a time adjusting to mortality again and thought possibly a reminder of the time long ago when he had been mortal might help.

She did wonder at times if part of his melancholy had to do with how he’d gained his freedom. The wish, of which she’d been told the exact wording of later, had been odd. Of course Cyrus was part of her pain, but so was her relationship with her father and a good many other smaller things, pain was part of life and there was no getting away from it. You simply had to enjoy what you had in the moment. She did have moments she wondered what, if any, affect that wish could have had on her father. Although she had no idea what could have happened to him after she wished him home, to save his life.

Wishes were so unpredictable; she could only hope there had been no consequences for her father. Despite all her grievances with him she knew he was a good man and had the capacity to be a wonderful father. She’d observed him more than once with Millie in her short time living with him before leaving for the asylum. The jealously she’d felt was almost suffocating at times, why did this child get all his love whilst she’d been starved for it?

But all things happened for a reason, she knew that. Her upbringing had thrown her into the path of someone who would show her all the love she could ever desire. He had given her so much, now she felt she was returning the favour by giving him back the link to his past that he had given up to ensure them a safe future.

With a radiant smile gracing her face, Alice slipped into the home they were hiding in at the moment anticipating how happy Cyrus would be to have his mother’s compass back in his possession. 

The first thing she’d been met with was a bit of shouting. She knew Anastasia and Cyrus were getting along, a fact that baffled her a bit, but she quickly realized the other voice was different. A second later she realized exactly who it was, and her smile brightened even more. “Will!” she exclaimed when she saw him standing up against a wall, an angry scowl on his face.

That dropped when he saw Alice, replaced by a nervous smile. He was happy to see her again, but now that he had his heart back he could empathize with the pain she was about to go through. If there had been some way of stopping Cyrus from making that last wish, he might have stopped him. Will couldn’t say for certain he would; with or without his heart he never had been a selfless person. He’d learned at a young age the only person you can count on is yourself, and helping others nine times out of ten would only cost you in the end. While he loved Alice like a sister and would do anything for her, he also wasn’t sure he wanted the role reversal to stick. If Cyrus had said his intentions with the last wish he wasn’t certain he’d have argued it. If he was completely honest with himself, he might have insisted the man hurry up and make the bloody wish.

“Who let you out of the bottle?” she asked, rushing over to give him a hug. Alice had begun to wonder if anyone would ever let Will back out, Anastasia had made it clear she could not handle it and Cyrus kept insisting they wait. With Anastasia she could understand how heartbreaking it would be for her, but when it came to Cyrus and his objections she was rather confused.

She was surprised when Will abruptly pulled out of the hug and gave her a little push away. She glanced down and instantly noticed something wrong. Will was a genie now, and there were certain things she knew would be in place. She didn’t expect him to reappear looking as Cyrus did the first time she’d seen him, but she knew of the binds that would tether him to the bottle. “Where are they?” she inquired, not even saying the word. She hated that word; the first time she’d heard Cyrus say it she found it rather distressing. It really emphasised, to her, that he was a prisoner and she hated it.

Will averted her gaze and shrugged, glancing darkly at Anastasia. Alice found her eyes following his to look at the former Red Queen, who looked insulted. Obviously something had happened when she was gone and that was when she realized someone was missing. “Where’s Cyrus?”

“Talk to her, maybe she’ll tell you the truth because she bloody well won’t tell me anything but a little story,” Will spat out, crossing his arms across his chest. Cyrus may have wished him back his heart, but he was not falling for any of Anastasia’s tales or her tears. He would never be fooled by her again.

Anastasia fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. She knew she deserved a good amount of distrust from both of them, and even some hatred. But this open hostility from Will was more than she could take, even after she told him everything that had been said between her and Cyrus right before he’d been summoned out of the genie’s bottle he continued to treat her as if she was not to be trusted. She insisted she was telling the truth but to him every word she spoke was nothing but lies.

Instead of saying a word, she grasped the bottle and pulled the cork out. She’d already summoned Cyrus once and had implored him to go back into his bottle when the argument with Will had gotten out of hand, feeling guilty over the apprehensive look that flitted over his face. Evidently he found it a little claustrophobic in there after being free of it for so long. Although right then she was regretting it, as he was the only person who even believed in her. Why was it the person who had every reason not to that seemed to have even a whisper of faith in her words?

She watched as pain washed over Alice’s face at the sight of Cyrus appearing amid an orange mist, uttering the phrase he knew he had to when summoned: mistress mine, my will is thine.

Before anyone could speak, Alice turned to Anastasia and demanded to know what she’d said to trick him into giving up his freedom so she could have another chance with Will. She even implied this was all a trick, that when they were sleeping she’d run off to Jafar and hand Cyrus and his bottle over.

Anastasia was stunned by the accusations, had Jafar’s attempt to kill her not put them all into this mess to begin with? If not for that, the third wish would not have been made and things would have remained as they were. “Why are you blaming me? Cyrus has a mind of his own, and I’m fairly certain he’s old enough to make his own decisions!” she snapped, once more fighting the tears that were threatening to fall in her upset and frustration. “I would never hand him over to Jafar again, I’ve learned my lesson. Why would I hand that madman the only friend I seem to have?”

Will snorted at that, which earned him a strange look from Cyrus. The genie didn’t understand why the Knave was still denying his feelings, he’d wished him back his heart and still he wouldn’t deal with anything? “I learned a long time ago not to believe a word that passed over your pretty lips, love. Cyrus here might have been better off not believing you as well, he’s gotten himself into a right mess. The second you feel like switching sides he’ll find himself handed right back to Jafar now that you’re his mistress.”

Those words broke Alice, and she couldn’t help the tears that began to fall. Right at that moment her happiness was held in the hands of the very woman who had tried to destroy it in that not so distant past. How could she blindly trust that this woman would not hand Cyrus back to Jafar if and when the notion struck her? She may have brought Cyrus back to her, but she still could not find it in her heart to fully trust her.

She walked over to Anastasia, anger flaring in her blue eyes. “Why should I trust you? For all I know you told all sorts of lies to convince him to switch places with the Knave, all for your own gain. Now you can hand him back to Jafar and get everything you have ever wanted,” she accused, her voice rising in volume and tone with every word.

Cyrus stepped forward and grasped Alice’s hands in his, only to have her pull away. “Why would you do this? Were you not happy with me, was I not enough for you to want to stay free?” she asked, her voice suddenly dropping to a volume hardly above a whisper.

He shook his head; he wanted to explain everything to her but could not bring himself to. It wasn’t just the memory of the pain he’d caused those he loved with his decision in the far distant past, but he wanted to forget that mortal life. He could never go back, he would never see those people again and it hurt to think about it. He’d willingly given up his mortal life for the sake of another, but he’d rather not talk about it if he could avoid it.

In that moment he began to understand the Knave, although he could not fully comprehend why he did not deal with the pain. Cyrus had resigned himself to what he’d done all those years ago, it had been the only option that he could find and he knew giving the choice he’d do it again without any reservations. But still, he could not understand the Knave’s choice to avoid dealing with his heartache.

“Alice, it is not a case of I was not happy with you. I am, you’ve given me more than I could have ever hoped for as I went from one master to another for longer than you can possibly comprehend. But I agreed to this life, I had an idea of what I was agreeing to when I did. It was a price I was more than willing to pay at that time, and I would again if the situation were to repeat itself. The Knave did not agree to such a high price and I could not allow him to live with my burden,” he explained, once again trying to take her hands in his but she continued to evade him.

The tears began to fall from her eyes, making his heart break in the process. He knew this was going to hurt her, and he knew it would be deep. He had always been aware of the fact she had always longed for him to be free, that the fact he was a genie was a bit of a stumbling block in their relationship. There was always someone waiting in the shadows to destroy their happiness, and with him as a genie again the looming threat of Jafar hung over them again. It had not been as heavy for Alice the last time, as she didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of.

Cyrus knew, all too well, and he could only hope that the sorcerer would never catch up with them. The man had a talent for inflicting pain on both the psychological and physical level. He had no desire to be captured by Jafar again, but he could not rule it out. They had to leave Wonderland, and it had to be soon.

“You’ve said once before that you had willingly agreed to become a genie, but still you won’t tell me why. It only seems fair that I should know, if you love me as much as you say you do,” Alice implored, looking at him with watery eyes. She knew she was being slightly childish, accusing him of not loving her enough when she knew full well he loved her as deeply as she did him. In that moment though, she didn’t care. She was hurting and was afraid for his well being. What would Jafar do if he was captured by the crazed man again?

He sighed, he did owe her something. “It was for my mother, to save her life. In order to save her, I had to give up mine to become a servant to the race I once counted myself among.”

Will looked over at that admission, rather surprised. “Wait, I thought genies just were, you mean to tell me you were once human?”

“I believe that’s what he said Will, maybe you should try listening once in awhile,” Anastasia snapped, thoroughly annoyed at his rather stupid question.

“Oh shut up. You can’t tell me that you knew this whole time,” he shot back with a fiery glare.

She leveled him with a haughty stare, something she’d acquired quite the talent for as the Red Queen. She’d dealt with enough insufferable fools in her time, and right in that moment Will was starting to number among them. She still loved him, and wanted him back more than anything, but she wasn’t blind to his faults. “I had assumed he had once been human. Jafar needed three genies, and one time he did give me enough of a hint to figure it out, if any of what he said could be trusted to be truth. The first was easy, the oldest genie in existence. I fancied that meant that genie would have the greatest power. The second, although he swore they were the hardest to acquire, was a genie particular to a certain region. That type seemed to pass from one master to another in one area, until it was time to move on to another place and repeat the cycle. I don’t know the point to that one, other than it seemed each one was special for some reason or another. The last was one who had the capacity to love, as normally that is an emotion foreign to genies. After seeing Cyrus the first time I knew he wasn’t just the third to be caught, but the third required for the spell. If genies normally did not love, not the way we think love is, then he had to have been human at one time.”

“Well aren’t we a smart girl?” Will drawled, he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with her, or any of this heartfelt stuff. “Either way, that seems a pretty high price to pay for anyone. I loved my mum but I’m pretty sure she’d have killed me if I even thought of going to those extremes for her. Even if the chance came up, I’m not sure I could jump on it without some reservations.”

Cyrus smiled. “We’re all different and it was a different time. I wanted her to live, even if it cost me in the end. I have no regrets, no matter how many horrid masters I had over the years, when I returned to my bottle I had one reminder that she was still alive out there, even though I would never see her again. At least I did, until it stopped pointing me towards her.”

Alice brightened a touch then, although there was still a trace of sadness and anger in her eyes. She reached into the little satchel she had over her shoulder and fished out the compass. Part of her wanted to throw it at him and storm off, but she knew that was uncalled for. He’d hurt her, deeply, but there was no point in trying to wound him as well. He was once again living with the very real threat of Jafar capturing him again, and although he didn’t say it, she knew he’d also wished to take that life back from Will to keep the Knave safe as well.

“Here,” she said, shoving the compass into his hands. “I thought it would cheer you up, even if it has stopped pointing.”

Anastasia and Will walked over to see what the item was, and her eyes went wide. “A lost and found? How did you manage to get that from the Caterpillar?” she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

Alice grinned proudly. “I had a little help from Lizard,” she answered.

Will laughed, he’d almost forgotten about her. “She always was bloody good at lifting things. Get in and out without anyone even realizing she was there.”

That statement from Will made Anastasia laugh. She could recall the Tweedles complaining about someone stealing from them from time to time, it sounded like she might be the culprit. Although neither Tweedle was her definition of brilliant so it couldn’t be that difficult to steal from them.

“How did you know what that thing is, it looks like a compass to me,” Will asked, looking at Anastasia curiously. It was rather suspect to him she knew the item without anyone saying exactly what it was.

She shrugged. “I liked to know about all the magical things in this realm, and had tried to acquire it a few times with no luck. I had no idea how that oversized insect had gotten his grubby hands on it, but I did long to relieve him of it.”

“You could have gotten yourself into a lot of trouble getting this Alice,” Cyrus said, smiling his thanks regardless. He did not regret giving it up to keep her safe, but it was the only link he had left to his mother even if it no longer pointed him to where she was.

“You’re welcome,” Alice answered, knowing that was his way of thanking her.

“What is it supposed to do, all it does is spin like a bloody top,” Will commented as he watched the needle go around and around without so much as a second or two to pause.

“At one time, it always pointed towards my mother. No matter where I was or what hardship I could possibly be enduring, be it was a cruel master or the isolation of the life I had, once inside my bottle I could look at this compass and know she was still out there. But it stopped pointing a long time ago,” he explained. “The last time I saw her, before I was imprisoned in my bottle, she gave it to me. She said it would always point me to her, that it would always direct me to her undying love even if I could not seek her out.”

Alice reached out to grasp his arm, avoiding the bindings she hated so much, and rested her head on his shoulder. He’d obviously had a strong relationship with his mother, if he’d given up his life for her. Despite everything with her father, she’d give up a good deal to see him safe and healthy.

Anastasia observed the spinning needle, her mind racing. It was possible there was a reason it had stopped pointing, and it had nothing to do with death. This could be a way to repay the debt she felt she owed the genie, and she was determined to find a way to get it to point again.

**********

Millie enjoyed going to the dressmaker’s shop with her mother. She loved watching how the material would slowly take shape into a pretty dress for her to wear, or her mother. She also enjoyed seeing and touching all the different types of material, as neither of the women working in the shop would stop her from touching anything she pleased, since her mother was a regular and one who could be a problem if she was angered.

It wasn’t that Millie made a habit of grabbing everything she saw in the shop, but she did like running her fingertips across silk and satin, they were such a luxurious feel and her mother never allowed her to have dresses made of either material. Her father had insisted once she should have a dress made with some silk accents for Christmas one year, but her mother had put a stop to it and fast.

She pouted a bit as the thought came back to her mind, but it was driven out quickly when she saw the person she was seeking out. Her mother would spend her time talking to Mrs. Slater, the owner of the shop, discussing different designs and sometimes asking if Millie could stay while she ran an errand or two. They were old family friends, so the little girl often found herself allowed to stay, much to her joy.

It wasn’t that she liked talking to Mrs. Slater. She was a nice woman who would show her different little tricks when it came to making dresses, as Millie had started trying her hand at sewing to make her dolls some little gowns. It was the other woman who worked in the shop she loved to see.

Her mother was against fairy tales and fanciful stories. She’d become even more against those sorts of tales after Alice had reappeared, and her father had spoken once recently of a fanciful dream in which he’d seen Alice and some sorcerer named Jafar. He did not speak of it again, at least not with Sarah in the room. Sometimes, when she was out calling on friends, he would tell Millie about it and how Alice had used a wish to send him home, even though he’d insisted he was not worth it and told her that her genie was free.

Millie loved hearing the story, and her mind always wandered late at night, wondering if her sister had found the genie. His name had escaped her, even though she’d heard it a few times. Even her father had forgotten it, he said he knew it but it would not come to him. Either way, Millie thought it was an amazing adventure, and she longed to know if Alice and her love were reunited, even though she was well aware she’d never have the answer.

She grinned when she found the woman she was looking for. “Pari!” she exclaimed, darting over to the older woman with an excited grin on her face.

Pari looked up from her work to see Millie coming towards her. She set aside the dress she was working on and scooped the young girl up in a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you today Millie, I thought your mother wasn’t coming in until tomorrow,” she said as the hug ended.

“You know my mum, she’s always in a hurry for new dresses when there is an event coming,” she answered, admiring the woman before her again. She thought Pari was the prettiest woman she’d ever seen, other than her mother. Like all little girls she thought her mum was the prettiest woman in the world, but Pari was a close second with her wavy black hair, brown eyes and olive skin tone. She also had a graceful way of walking that made Millie think of a princess.

Pari chuckled, that was not far off the truth. Sarah was very demanding and thought the world should bow to what she wanted and how she thought. She wasn’t sure how her husband, Edwin, dealt with her. She’d heard the woman had been the cause of his daughter from his late wife to leave for an asylum. It wasn’t a choice she’d want to make herself, but the woman could be insufferable.

Millie sat down next to her, her eyes looking up expectantly. “And what is it you’re wanting today, my dear girl?”

“You promised me a story the next time I was in. You’ve told me all the stories I’ve heard before in my storybooks, you said you could tell me something I’ve never heard before,” she said, smiling with anticipation of a story she’d never heard before. She liked all the stories about princesses like Snow White, but she wanted to hear something that was new.

Pari smiled as she picked up her work again, a slight sadness coming into her eyes as she thought of a story the little girl had never heard. No one knew this story; Millie would be the first to ever hear it.

“This story is long, but it will give you something to look forward to every time you come to the shop. Once upon a time, in a land similar to what you call Persia, but in a magical realm unlike this, lived a Shah. He was a good ruler, be it a bit temperamental at times, and he had a beautiful wife. They lived happily in their large palace with many servants, all of whom they were good to. The Shah and his wife were blessed with four children, although the little princess did not live long past her childhood years. This gave them a great deal of grief, but they had three children before her to help heal their hearts,” she told Millie, who was listening with a rapt look on her face.

“Were the older three princesses too, and just as pretty as you are?” she inquired, the excitement dripping from her words.

Pari smiled and shook her head. “No, they were princes and each very handsome and a perfect blending of both their parents in appearance. The youngest was Faarih, a mischievous boy who loved to laugh and cause trouble for his siblings. The second was named Raheem, he was a very serene and quiet boy who enjoyed books more than people. The oldest, and next in line for the throne, had a smile that was infectious, and would do anything for his family. That prince was named Cyrus.”


	2. Many Plans and Sibling Relationships.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Alice and Cyrus argue, Anastasia makes a guess on why his compass no longer points to what he desires to find. Jafar makes plans to recapture his errant genie by exploiting another fear he has.
> 
> In England, Millie is captivated as Pari begins her story, not realizing it isn't just a made up tale but the story of her children in a time long past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

_Naseem continued to lecture his oldest son, and heir, on the way he was to act in the court. He was appalled over what he’d done and was absolutely baffled at how he’d managed it. Ever since Cyrus was a young boy he’d been terrified of snakes, so either he’d had help getting all those snakes into the dining room or he’d managed to conquer that fear. Either way, he should know better as next in line for the throne and he was nearing twenty years of age, he should have outgrown those antics years ago._

_Cyrus, despite his cool exterior, was seething. He had to stand before many nobles of the royal court, as well as some servants, and be berated as though he was a naughty child who had been caught stealing sweets out of the kitchens. How his father could even assume he had anything to do with this particular prank was beyond him; he was horrifically fearful of snakes. There was no chance he’d even consider such a trick, but he knew full well who would, and he was going to make sure Faarih paid dearly for this upbraiding he was currently on the wrong end of. He didn’t care that his brother was merely fourteen years of age, it was time he left that part of his childhood behind. Cyrus was more than happy to be the push he needed as well._

_Pari looked from her oldest son to her husband, wishing she could have gotten a word in before Cyrus had been dragged into the room. She knew full well he was still scared of the reptiles, if he so much as thought he saw one he’d take any other route to his destination to avoid it. She’d even seen him freeze up at the sight of them, so this was an impossible prank for him. The fact a servant had found one of Cyrus’ rings laying forgotten in the room did not condemn him as the one who had played the trick, it simply meant someone wished their father to believe it was his oldest that was to blame. She could tell by the look in her son’s dark eyes that he’d figured out who was at fault, and she did not envy Faarih in the least._

_“You shall be banned from social functions, without one of us to accompany you henceforth, until I decide you are worthy of my trust. Do you understand, Cyrus?” Naseem inquired, leveling his oldest with a firm look._

_Cyrus nodded, bowing his head slightly. “I do,” he said, just longing to be dismissed so he could get out of the room._

_His silent wish was granted when his father dismissed him, and he made his way out, his only thoughts on how he’d get Faarih back for this._

_**********_

_Nadira was only twelve years old, but the servants entrusted to her care swore at times she was an old soul. The little girl loved to play, but at times the wisdom that came out of her mouth amazed them. They could only reason it had to do with her spending as much time as she could with her oldest brother, Cyrus._

_Faarih and Raheem were both at that age they felt they were too old to play with their youngest sister, but Cyrus spent as much time as he could with her. His duties as the crown prince often kept him away, but once he was free of it he would seek her out._

_She’d finally managed to get away from her current caretaker, growing weary of being told how she should be acting at some banquet or other, she didn’t know why it was being thrown and she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she got to stay long past the meal; she was always sent back to her rooms to prepare for bed and missed out on the fun._

_Much to her delight she found Cyrus wandering the gardens, a distracted look on his face. She had an inkling what was bothering him; she’d heard Faarih talking about the prank he was going to pull and leave the blame on Cyrus. She really could not understand the reason her brothers took some form of delight in terrorizing each other. Faarih was the worst for it, he seemed to take far too much joy in pulling tricks on his brothers, or finding a way to get them to take the blame._

_She’d warned him once to be careful; his luck in not getting caught was going to run out. She wasn’t trying to caution him that Cyrus and Raheem would figure it out, as she knew they’d let it slide, but if their parents found out he’d likely be in more trouble than he could talk his way out of. She had worried, in her twelve year old way, that one of his pranks would eventually have a backlash on one of the other siblings. He’d pulled enough that left her looking like the culprit, one day he was going to take it too far._

_From the look on their oldest brother’s face, she knew one of the tricks had finally gone to that level. She’d seen their father a few moments earlier, and he looked somewhere between anger and disappointment. That had told her something had been taken much further than normal, and either Raheem or Cyrus had taken the fall. Looking at her oldest brother she could guess with absolute certainty who had shouldered the blame._

_“I can see you are having a bad day,” she commented as she sat down next to him, glancing up at the sky to see the pinks and purples painting the sky at sunset._

_Cyrus said nothing at first, it was more than obvious he was choosing his words carefully. She smiled a bit; evidently their father had been after him as of late to watch what he said. He’d made the mistake of insulting a noble’s daughter, not on purpose and he certainly did regret it, but he’d still been told he had to learn to pick his words with great care, being next in line for the throne. “You could say that, but it will be no worse than Faarih’s once I catch him.”_

_“That wasn’t very diplomatic,” she laughed._

_He looked over at her and smiled. “I wasn’t attempting to be so; I am now to be chaperoned at all social functions as if I am a small child thanks to him. I only wish I could think of something to do to pay him back,” he told her, just as they heard light footsteps behind them._

_Both siblings turned to see their mother coming towards where they were sitting by the fountain in the middle of the garden. She grinned warmly as she sat next to them, wrapping an arm around her daughter. “You know seeking revenge will get you nowhere Cyrus, it will only provoke Faahir to try harder next time,” she said._

_“He needs to cease, I will be twenty years old tomorrow and thanks to him I am being treated like a small child,” Cyrus protested._

_Pari smiled, wrapping her free arm around her oldest son and pulling him close. It was strange to think he would turn twenty years of age in a day’s time, to her it seemed just yesterday he was learning to walk. How had her firstborn gone from a little toddler stumbling about the palace to a man in what felt like the blink of an eye?_

_“If you wish to have a bit of revenge on your brother, there is a way to do it without him realizing what you’re up to,” she finally suggested, laughing slightly at the curious look that crossed the faces of both Cyrus and Nadira. “Tomorrow, as there is a banquet to celebrate your birthday, your brother is intending to show his talent with a sword to some of the noble’s daughters. There is one in particular he fancies. Allow him to spar with some of the other boys his age, as none of them will try to outshine him as he is a prince. When he feels he has done his best, you challenge him. He will have no choice but to accept, and as he hasn’t seen you training with a sword in quite a long time he will be thoroughly surprised when you unarm him and use his sword against him. In that way, you will get your revenge and he’ll be none the wiser,” she explained, trying not to laugh at the wicked grin the crossed the faces of her oldest and youngest._

_Nadira started to giggle, she rather liked the idea of this. Faarih at times was a little too full of himself, and really did need to come down a notch or two. He’d been allowed too much freedom, and as many of his pranks were normally reserved for the servants they would not complain. He was well aware even his siblings would say nothing, and would rarely try to get back at him._

_“Just attempt to keep from getting hurt, as you are to meet your betrothed tomorrow night at the banquet,” Pari advised, not failing to notice the slight grimace to flit across her son’s face._

_Cyrus was well aware he was to meet the girl he’d been hearing about since he was barely out of childhood the next night and he was not looking forward to it. It wasn’t simply because he had another young lady he was fond of, but he disliked the concept of having an arranged marriage forced upon him. He was well aware he could keep the girl around as a mistress, as it was common practice and he knew his father had a few, but Cyrus felt that was demeaning. Despite growing up around all of those practices and traditions, he did not wish to continue that one. He wasn’t certain if what he felt for Nava was simply fondness or love, but he knew if he relegated her to simply a mistress after his marriage it would lessen whatever feelings he felt and make it seem cheap._

_He had mentioned this to his father months ago, when the subject of this princess had come up in conversation. Naseem had been quick to admonish his notions and opinions, angered when he’d realized these ideas had come from a king who had visited their kingdom years prior and had given his children a book of tales. These were not tales known in their land, but prevalent in some place called the Enchanted Forest. Nadira had been rather taken with them, both Faarih and Raheem hadn’t cared much for the stories but it was Cyrus who had suddenly had his eyes opened to a different possibility._

_Naseem had told him, with no room for argument, that he would wed this princess in the months after his birthday, thereby securing an alliance with her kingdom and his adoration for Nava would have to be forgotten or he would just have to do as many before him. Cyrus had said nothing to that, simply nodded and asked to be excused. Evidently he would have to enjoy whatever time he had to spend with Nava as it would soon be over._

_It was more than obvious to his family that he did not like the idea of all the responsibility he was about to have lain upon his shoulders. Cyrus was not one to shirk any and all the duties he knew were required of him as the crown prince, but an arranged marriage was one he was starting to rebel against. He had been unhappy with it as he had grown older, but after reading the book of stories from another kingdom, he’d begun to reject the concept even more._

_If there was a way he could get out of the betrothal he would, within reason of course, but he knew it was impossible. It had been arranged when he was still a child, the same as she. It was more of an alliance than anything, as most royal marriages were. He knew in time he would learn to care for her, and most likely love her. But he could not help but envy his younger siblings in a way, at least his brothers. They would not end up married to form an alliance, although Nadira ran the risk of her marriage being along those lines._

_There were days he wished all this could be someone else’s responsibility. He knew full well his father had more children with some of the other women he kept around. There was one he was convinced was another son of his father’s, who was close in age to himself. If only that son could be the crown prince, but he knew that was not possible. That child was not born to his wife, and even if some misfortune should befall him the throne would go to Raheem._

_He hated being the crown prince, but as he was born into the position he would fulfill it to the best of his abilities. He’d been training since he was a young boy in everything from politics to sword play, and he would not disappoint his family. He would do anything for them._

_“He won’t be able to touch me if I have two swords,” he finally said, noticing how his mother smiled slightly at that. Personally he wouldn’t mind a slight injury to get out of the banquet, and meeting this princess from Agrabah, but he knew that would just land him in even more trouble with his father. Of course at least that time it would be his fault, but he’d had enough of being lectured to last him a few months._

_Pari shook her head, she shouldn’t encourage him but she knew Faarih well enough that he’d most likely find some delight in trying to take on Cyrus when he would be wielding two swords. “Just go easy on him at first, allow him to think he has the upper hand. Nothing will wound his pride more, and in front of a girl, than thinking he was besting his oldest brother only to have you get the upper hand in the end.”_

_“May I come and watch? This sounds like it will be a good laugh,” Nadira inquired, her eyes bright with anticipation._

_Cyrus pulled her close and gave her a light kiss on the forehead, noting she felt a little warmer than usual. He hoped it was just from her being out in the sun most of the afternoon, and nothing serious. “Of course, I would not want it any other way. My life would be diminished without you around, my dear sister.”_

**********

“Millie!” the sharp voice of Sarah called when she walked into the shop.

The little girl jumped slightly, she was so enthralled with Pari’s tale about Cyrus and Nadira she hadn’t even heard the door to the little dressmaker’s shop open or heard Mrs. Slater greet her mother.

Pari smiled at her, she felt rather sorry for the little girl. She knew Sarah had something against fairy tales, and had said many times she did not want her daughter to grow up with her head in the clouds. Pari didn’t agree with that sentiment; her four children had grown up with all sorts of legends and folklore. Mainly the tales were of their own country, but there had been that one book of tales from another kingdom that had caused a bit of trouble. She had appreciated the gift, it had been innocent enough, but her oldest and youngest did seem to take to the ideas a little too much. Pari’s marriage had been arranged, but she could sympathise with her oldest, and the fact her youngest was likely fated for the same sort of marriage.

It wasn’t often she thought of her long lost children, three gone to whatever awaited after death and one lost to her. That was the one reason she’d never spoken of this story before; to tell it brought back memories she’d rather forget. She’d found a way to continue living, at the cost of seeing all she loved fade away and die. The only thing that kept her going was the hope to see her one son again, as she’d been told she would by a man with powerful magic and the ability to see the future. He was the one who had shown her how to extend her life through magic, as she longed to see Cyrus once more.

“I hope you haven’t been filling her head with nonsense,” Sarah drily commented, her voice a touch haughty. Pari glanced up from the dress she was sewing, almost wishing to tell the woman off. She had once been the wife of a Shah and the mother of three princes and a princess, being spoken to like some commoner bothered her, but she knew in this realm she was not royalty.

“I’ve merely been telling her some folk tales from my country,” she answered, looking back towards the dress she was stitching. The woman certainly knew how to get under someone’s skin and she wondered, yet again, how her husband could stand her. It was little wonder his oldest daughter had left for an asylum.

“It is an amazing story mum,” Millie began to say, only to have Sarah hush her with the wave of a hand.

“That’s nice darling, we should get going though. There is a lot to see to at home for your birthday party next week, but we’ll be back tomorrow so you can be fitted for the new dress for the occasion,” she said, her voice taking on a softer tone.

Millie took her mother’s hand, and waved good bye to Pari, a bright smile on her face. She was more excited to return the next day to hear more about the princes and princess than she was for her birthday party.

**********

Will was not speaking, and there was precious little that would get him to talk to anyone in the room. He would talk to Alice though, so he supposed it wasn’t a case of he wasn’t speaking, he was just choosing who he felt was worth wasting breath on. Alice had done nothing to anger him, other than leave him in that bloody bottle longer than there was need for, but even that he couldn’t blame her for as it was at Cyrus’ insistence that she left him in there.

He was undecided who he harboured more anger towards: Anastasia or Cyrus. The anger with Anastasia was older, and the wounds from what she had done still stung as if they were freshly made. He knew he should have moved on by now, but when it is the one you felt was your true love, the one you would spend your life with and you thought loved you back just as deeply, it hurt to be shun for another. And it wasn’t just anyone, but a king.

He had always thought Anastasia was better than most girls. She wouldn’t be swayed by sparkling jewels and beautiful gowns, but evidently he’d been wrong. He wondered at times if she’d wanted to steal the crown jewels to ensure them a decent life back in the Enchanted Forest, or if she was just trying to find a way to fulfill what her mother had always wanted for her in life. When she’d appeared on that balcony, he couldn’t help but think it was the latter over the former. How radiant she’d looked, a smile that he thought was reserved only for him gracing her face.

She had looked beautiful, every bit the queen he’d always considered her. She didn’t need ball gowns and jewels to make herself stand out from the rest. To him, she’d been his world and he would have gladly done anything for her. 

But not now, he’d be damned if he’d lift a finger to help her, and he most certainly was not going to speak to her if he had no reason. Let Alice speak for him, but he would not waste any breath on the two timing little snipe. It didn’t matter to him what she’d been prepared to do just to have him back, even if Alice had admitted it was quite the gesture. It was, but in the long run she was willing to ruin another’s happiness, and possible end the life of the genies required for the spell, all to have back what she’d lost. To Will, there was no forgiving her.

Then there was Cyrus. Part of Will was more than happy he’d taken the bonds back from him, he didn’t want to be a genie and that had been far from his intent with that wish. Looking back, he really should have worded it better. Cyrus had told him to be careful what he wished for, and goodness knows he’d know better than any of them how wishes could go wrong. He just felt fortunate the wish hadn’t ended Alice’s suffering by ending her life. If that had happened he was fairly certain he’d be hoping Cyrus would be drawn back into his bottle and fast, or else he’d have found himself meeting a quick end over the slow death he’d been suffering with.

He might be grateful that the genie had taken that life back from him, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t angry at him. The man had insisted on leaving him in that bottle, and for what purpose? He’d been left alone in there, with absolutely nothing to do. It was maddening. He’d found a few books, but they were all in a language he couldn’t understand, the only thing he’d found that had amused him from time to time was a book that had sketches in it.

When he’d first realized he had somehow switched places with Cyrus he’d been surprised to find a few of the genie’s personal items still in the bottle. He figured since the bottle technically was his home, it would somehow revert to what he’d need, although he was pretty sure there would be no television reception in Wonderland, or wherever he’d end up. Instead he’d found those books, and the one with the sketches. Most of them were of a young girl, who bore a resemblance to Cyrus. It seemed he’d delighted in drawing whoever this person was, but for reasons Will could not comprehend they never seemed to go past her reaching late childhood. There were drawings of two boys, both older in age than the girl from what he could tell, as well as one or two of an older man, and finally a woman. Like the young girl, Cyrus drew her quite a bit as well. Will had even found one or two sketches that looked like the genie himself, making him wonder if Cyrus had created an imaginary life to keep himself amused all those years locked away in the bottle.

It did make him wonder about the mental stability of the person in question, but he couldn’t exactly blame him for wanting to make up some dream life to occupy himself all those years spent alone. He knew he had been reaching the point he was ready to carry on lively conversations with himself to fill the time, and that had only been in the span of a few weeks. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he’d handle years on end locked away in there.

The book of sketches did help him out, he started to create stories for the people he saw in the book, and tried to imagine what Cyrus could have been thinking when he drew these people. He’d obviously created himself a family, in his mind at any rate. Although with the recent revelation, he started to wonder if those drawings had been the genie’s family. If he had been human at some point, he must’ve had a family that he’d cared about.

He wasn’t about to ask though, he was angry at both Anastasia and Cyrus, both for different reasons but he was anything if not stubborn. Anastasia had tried to speak with him a few times, but he just brushed her off. Thankfully Cyrus hadn’t even tried. He seemed to have enough to deal with when it came to Alice.

Will didn’t envy him that, in the least. It was another reason he was angry with Cyrus; he hadn’t even talked about his plans with the woman he claimed to love. To him, that was shades of what Anastasia had done to him, and it was unforgivable.

But he knew Alice would forgive Cyrus, because she always did the right thing.

**********

Jafar was not a man to make a rash decision. There were times his actions could be mistaken for such, but even then he’d calculated the risk in what he had planned, and the chance of success. He would not willingly make a mistake or misstep when he had his mind set on a course of action.

He also wasn’t one easily fooled; he had always known the Red Queen was a weak willed woman. All women were, in his opinion. They could never be trusted to stick to anything, and he’d known that there was always a chance she’d turn on him. She may have delivered up the last genie to him, but it didn’t mean he trusted her to not eventually change her colours.

That was why, despite her questioning, he’d never disclosed much information on any of the genies required for the spell. She’d figured out the purpose of the first genie, any simpleton could: the first genie known in existence, making it the most powerful. All genies were powerful, he had explained, but none held as much power as that one. The second wasn’t actually a genie that stayed within one region, as he’d told her. Genies were beings that had elemental qualities, but this one was rare; it was born of all four: fire, air, earth and water. There were more in the world like that, but they were hard to come by. And of course, the spell called for three particular genies, so he’d been required to obtain that particular one. It had taken quite a bit of travel, but he’d found the genie needed and taken it. There had been some bloodshed, but in the end it was worth it in his eyes.

Just like the first two, the last to be acquired was very particular as well. Jafar knew there were genies that had once been mortal; if a human unknowingly came upon a genie with a malicious nature, the master could easily be tricked into taking the genie’s place. But this mortal turned genie had not been one of those unfortunate souls; he had willingly become a genie. Jafar always marvelled at that, whilst chiding the idea of giving up one’s mortal life all for the sake of love. That was what made the third so important: his capacity for love and his belief in it. That genie had a strong faith in love, and he was the third required to break the laws of magic.

The one thing Jafar knew, once he got a hold of that one again, he’d be sure he could not escape a second time. Cyrus had made a fool of him, he’d tricked him with the bandersnatch and obviously starving the genie hadn’t been enough to stop him from discovering a way to escape, and killing one of his guards in the process.

He’d had the silver cage repaired, and this time there would be no getting out for Cyrus, he’d made sure of that. The guards were also out for blood, which he was more than happy to let them have, so long as it didn’t kill the prisoner. That was one thing Jafar was not sure of, how much a genie could take before they would cease to exist. With his goal so close at hand, it was not something he was willing to risk discovering either, so he’d instructed them to be mindful of the well being of Cyrus. Make him pay, but do not kill him or else they’d be next in line to find out what lay in the great beyond.

Jafar grinned as he heard someone enter the room. It was some peasant man of no importance, a former subject of the Red Queen. Like he did with all who aided him in his quest he had promised the man whatever his heart desired. He had little intention of following through, unless it was something of slight consequence of course. So long as the man could locate that insipid queen and clever little genie, that was all that mattered. Rewards, or lack thereof, could be dealt with later.

“What information do you have for me, and it had better be reliable. I am not a man to be toyed with,” he snarled, leveling the man with an icy glare.

The stout man stood in the doorway, reminding Jafar very much of the White Rabbit when he was caught in a bad situation, worrying his cap in his work worn hands. “I’ve heard from reliable sources she’s in the outlands still, like your storm cloud showed you,” he muttered, evidently intimidated by the sorcerer.

Jafar stood from where he was sitting and sneered, he already knew that. Why was he promising these fools anything when all they could do was regurgitate information he already knew? “Has it occurred to you I already know this? You might want to remember I have no issue removing appendages to teach you a lesson, you simpering fool,” he roared, stalking over to where the man stood.

“But you don’t know they are hiding!” the man exclaimed in a panic. “By a large rock, there is a hidden home! A friend of mine knows the Caterpillar and he was there when the genie came and traded something of value for the magic to create this place.”

This piece of information was interesting, and stayed Jafar’s hand from removing some vital limb from the man. A hidden home; that did sound like something the genie might come up with, with the help of magic from someone else. He knew Cyrus would do anything for those he cared about, right down to sacrificing himself. Giving up something of value did sound just like him, the fool. And of course he hadn’t been smart enough to be sure no one would be able to hand out that little bit of information either.

Jafar smirked and told the man to leave while he was in a good humour, something that did not need to be repeated. He walked back over to where his books were strewn about the table. If the genie had wanted to make a deal to help protect Alice he should have done it in secret, not in a place where people would be able to overhear the conversation.

Jafar grinned; all he had to do was figure out a way to at least capture the genie again. He could recall the genie had a certain aversion to his snake staff; he’d always eyed it with a hint of fear in his eyes. Jafar had wondered at first if he was just concerned of what sort of pain could be inflicted with it or the magic endued within, but slowly began to realize Cyrus was actually afraid of the creature it was fashioned after.

Capturing the genie would be easy, knowing he had more weaknesses other than just his ability to love, and his misplaced need to protect those he cared about. Jafar knew he may only manage to get his hands on Cyrus, yet again, and have to work to get the bottle and the last wish, but nothing worthwhile ever came easy.

**********

Cyrus rested his head in his hands and sighed. His head was beginning to swim, he could understand Alice was angry but this argument beat out any they’d ever had before.

Their relationship was far from perfect; once he’d become accustom to the concept of voicing an opinion, they’d argued from time to time. His belief that she could never do anything wrong, in his eyes, still held true though. Arguing didn’t mean there was something wrong with her, or even him, it was just part of a normal, healthy relationship. That thought never failed to amuse him slightly when it occurred to him, given the consideration he was a genie so that might contradict the concept of their relationship being normal. Either way, despite his belief Alice was perfect they still argued from time to time, sometimes it was minor verbal sparring, other times it was raised voices and hurt feelings that led to apologizes later for what was said in the spur of the moment.

But this one, he didn’t know how to talk his way out of it. He couldn’t have talked this decision over with her first, as he didn’t want to disclose much of his past to her. The time she’d asked about his mother had been more than he’d ever wanted her to know; she thought he’d come into existence as a genie and he had wanted it to stay that way. It wouldn’t have given her any notions he could one day be mortal once more. Now that she knew even a hint of his origins, he was well aware once in awhile when she was looking at him, she was trying to figure out if there was a way for him to mortal again. It was in those moments he would mentally kick himself for keeping that compass on him, he should have left it in his bottle. But then, he’d had no reason to believe at first she’d be the first to not send him back to his bottle after releasing him. He’d hoped she’d see him as something other than a possession, but he didn’t expect it.

He knew there was a way he could be freed, but sadly he had no idea what it was. The sorcerer who had turned him into a genie had never explained it to him, and sadly he had never even thought to ask, he was far too concerned with the task he had at hand.

There was also the fact he did not want Alice to know he’d once been royalty. It had been enough of a come down to go from a prince to a slave, and there was no other word for what he was. He knew Alice wouldn’t make too much of a fuss over that knowledge, after all she didn’t pester him again for more information on his mother, sensing he didn’t want to talk about it. She’d likely be shocked but he just had no desire for her to know. He was no longer a prince and never would be one again. At best, he’d have a few more decades with her before going back to being at the mercy of the race he once counted himself one of.

As well, he could not handle the pity that might shine in her eyes every time she’d look at him after that revelation.

“Cyrus, you haven’t answered my question,” Alice said, her tone flat. She could tell he was deep in some thoughts, but she really wanted him to acknowledge her inquiry.

He had been the one person she felt she could count on, the one person who would never let her down or hurt her as badly as others had in the past. She knew her father had not intentionally meant to hurt her, not when he disbelieved her ramblings about Wonderland or with his second marriage and his new family.

In retrospect, she could see how insane her Wonderland stories could have sounded. Not when she was a child though, he could have chalked that up to an over active imagination and let it go. If he had, she might not have spent so much time going back to find proof. But there was no way to change the past; she couldn’t even wish it changed.

The new family, it was a normal progression she supposed. She had a habit of vanishing and time moved differently between England and Wonderland. Anytime she returned she really had no way of telling how much time had passed without asking, or finding a newspaper to check the date. She thought he’d never move on from her mother, but obviously she was wrong.

That didn’t excuse his treatment of her when she’d returned heartbroken over the death of the one she loved. She could understand now how insane she must have sounded, even more when she insisted her love was a genie, but he could have just smiled and comforted her. All she wanted was for him to hold her and assure her that the pain would lessen as time went by. She had longed for him to listen to her when she cried out for Cyrus, and just be there.

But that never happened; the only one who seemed to want to listen to her was Millie. She tried to support her when she could, in her child like way, but Sarah was against any talk of fanciful things. Alice would never call the woman by the title mother, as she did not deserve to be thought of as such. No mother would push her into meeting other men when she was in mourning. If they did not want to believe Cyrus had existed, they could have humoured her.

It had been Sarah’s idea she go to the asylum, and although she was loathed to go to the place, it had gotten her away from the controlling and suffocating woman.

But at that moment the problem wasn’t her father, or even Sarah; the problem was Cyrus had not even spoken to her about what he’d planned to do. She thought he was happy, he’d been overjoyed when he’d realized his binds were gone. She could feel his joy radiating off him, he was finally free to be his own person without the constant fear one day she’d be gone and he’d be a prisoner once more. In a way she was protecting him from what the world expected out of him, the same way he protected her. They could both hold their own, but it was a comfort to know the other was there.

She sat down next to him, pulling his hands away from his face which he was keeping hidden from her. This was a strange antic out of him; she could never recall seeing him trying to keep her from seeing any emotions that could be read in his eyes or his facial expression. It worried her a bit, but she still could not completely let go of her anger at what he’d done. “Please, just tell me why you did this,” she pleaded, forcing him to look at her.

Cyrus sighed, there had to be a way to appease her, without giving away too much. “You asked about my mother once, she is the reason I am what I am now. She was sick, very sick and would have died. The disease which she was suffering from I had already seen waste away the life of another, and I could not allow it to tear my family apart. My mother was the center of our family, she held us all together. I could not stand by and allow her to die, so I struck a deal with a sorcerer who was well known where I lived: the cure for the disease for my mortal life. I didn’t think twice, only asked I be able to stay with her until she was cured. He was merciful enough in that; he turned me into a genie, gave me my bottle and sent me home with the cure. He allowed me to see her back to health, and gave me the kindness to give my bottle to someone before I was drawn into it, making it my choice who my first master would be. It is a life I agreed to, and I cannot allow someone else to suffer it.”

“You’re very noble, but rather foolish. We could have found a way to free Will without you switching places with him. There must have been a way to word another wish that would have done it,” she insisted, holding both his hands in hers. If Will’s wish had somehow freed him, why didn’t he consider another could have freed the Knave?

“Alice, that is not possible. Nature abhors a vacuum; in order to free a genie you must have another take their place. I didn’t replace another, that bottle had never held a genie before I was put in it. When he said that wish, for some reason my magic decided on that outcome. If you’d wished him free, you likely would have become a genie in return, but it is hard to say. Genie magic is tricky at best. I’ve heard of some genies being freed without someone taking their place, and it always ends with the most tragic results, therefore someone had to take your friend’s place. If there had been another way you know I would have taken it,” he explained, just as she let go of his hands and stood up. He didn’t bother to mention he’d felt a less than benevolent aura radiate off Will when he’d been released. Will’s lack of heart could have very well twisted him as the years went by, until he’d become the type of genie that would have tricked a master into taking his place.

He hardly knew the man, but did not want to see him go down that path, the sooner he was freed from that life was for the better. He could tell Will had a good spirit, and it would only be distorted as the years went by if he’d stayed locked away in that bottle.

Alice was angry, and he could feel the emotion rolling off her in waves. He couldn’t blame her either, but he longed for her to see reason. They’d all been through a lot and hardly anyone had a completely clear head. She had to know he’d have found another way to free her friend if he could have found one.

“You could have talked to me first! This decision was one that affects both of us, yet you just made the choice yourself, did you even give any thought to my wishes when you did this? How could you be so selfish?” she accused, her eyes glazing over with tears she was trying valiantly not to shed.

At that accusation Cyrus couldn’t even begin to form words. It had been a selfish choice, he could recognize that. Maybe he should have spoken with her, but what was there to discuss? Her friend had ended up in that bottle, and if Jafar found it before they did, or even acquired it at some point from them, the chance was high he would kill the person inside if the spell required the genie that had been imprisoned in that bottle and not the replacement. Cyrus wasn’t stupid; there was a good chance if and when Jafar caught up with them, whatever he had planned could end in his own death. A small, selfish part of him had wanted to leave the Knave in the bottle and readjust to being mortal again, but he couldn’t. He knew the man was important to both women, and he could just imagine how distressing it must’ve been to realize he’d been turned into a genie.

“I’m sorry Alice, there isn’t much more I can say. I regret hurting you, it was never my intent,” he told her, standing and reaching out to take her hands in his.

To his surprise, she moved away from him. It was obvious a few words were not going to do the trick this time, and he was at a loss for what else he could do. Jafar would be coming, he couldn’t exactly find somewhere amazing to show her, as a way to appease her for his decision. He had a feeling if he told her more of his past she may well forgive him a touch, but even then he wasn’t sure. “Sometimes, Alice, the good of the many is more important than the needs of just one.”

“I don’t care,” she answered in a small voice, sorrow dripping from her voice. She could understand where he was coming from, in a way, but it still hurt. 

She was glad Will was free again, and still his cynical self despite Cyrus wishing him back his heart. She had to admit she was secretly pleased he’d made that wish. He still hadn’t told her what the other wish was he’d made, she knew Will had his heart back and the last wish was more than obvious, but whatever else he’d wished for she had no idea what it could have been.

Anastasia watched them, her heart breaking a bit. Everyone thought she was cold and void of emotion but in truth she wasn’t; she’d just closed herself off to keep from being hurt. It was easier than allowing people in. She fancied in a way her and Will had done the same thing, only he’d made sure not to put his heart in whilst she’d tried to stop using hers.

But after what she’d done at the Boiling Sea she had actually begun to feel some regret. The way they’d fought for one another, it made her think of Will. She remembered how he would have done anything for her at one time, and how badly she wanted that back. In truth, she would have rather have just had her men drag Cyrus away; she hadn’t expected him to fight back the way he had. Tossing him over that cliff had been risky; she knew Jafar was waiting below but she had to hope he would catch the genie.

Something about the genie’s devotion to Alice had begun to reawaken the feelings she’d buried upon marrying the king. As a queen, she’d had to close herself off to almost everyone. She had never loved her husband, she cared about him of course and had grown to love him as a friend eventually, but it was not a romantic love. She had never had close friends in her position either; she could never be sure who could be trusted with a confidence. And so, closing herself off from people and making them believe she was a heartless woman was better than letting herself be hurt.

When she’d aligned herself with Jafar she’d delighted at what he had planned. The first two genies meant nothing to her; they were just objects to be kept on a shelf. Cyrus, on the other hand, she could put a face to.

She tried to ignore any emotions she had begun to feel, the regret that was simmering below the surface of her calm demeanour. Instead she taunted him and terrorized him with everything she was going to help Jafar do to Alice. She’d delighted in it, even if half the time he gave her no reaction. That was until the day she’d been there and one of the guards had jostled his cage for fun, knocking him up against the silver bars.

The cry of pain as his instincts took over and he’d grabbed the silver bars, causing his skin to burn, had suddenly given her pause for thought. The other two genies were nothing to her, so their fate had meant little. They were just magical beings, and even though Cyrus was one as well, she was starting to see him as a person. He had a personality, he had emotions and he could feel pain. Jafar and the guard had snickered at his reaction, she had tried to smile at his pain but inside she started to feel the cold queen she had become slowly begin to fade away and the girl she’d once been take over.

And then Jafar had made the mistake of turning Will to stone. He could inflict pain on anyone else all he liked, she didn’t actually find much enjoyment in watching it, but that had been the last straw for her. Having to convince Alice to help her get the magic dust had been hard; lying about why she wanted it wasn’t difficult though. There was no chance she’d let Alice know she still harboured any feelings for Will.

But, Alice had helped her and she had promised her the genie. It was rather shocking to find he’d escaped. She did admire his determination though, even if he’d just put a hitch in her plans. He’d been hard enough to find the first time, she was fairly certain he’d be even more elusive the second time around and of course she had to find him before Jafar.

In the end, her plan had worked, in a way. It took awhile, but Alice had her genie back and she had Will. Sort of anyway, neither of the situations were ideal, but at least they were all together and all it would take was time to heal over the wounds, some would take longer than others.

She glanced over to Alice and Cyrus again; their argument was going in circles. Neither was going to win out, and obviously they both were too stubborn to notice. She did notice on thing; Cyrus was being very careful with his words and almost diplomatic in some of the things he said. It made her wonder who he was before he was a genie, as Jafar never told her much and even when she asked if he’d been mortal at one time, as she’d concluded on her own, he wouldn’t confirm it.

Will was just sitting up against a wall, not really listening to anything, which annoyed her a bit. The least he could do is talk to her but she supposed he was still upset and that was going to take time, or a lot of yelling, to work through. But this other argument was starting to get under her skin; yes Cyrus should have talked to Alice first but there really were no other options. She hated he had to give up his happiness, but she understood his reasoning and where he’d been coming from with it, and she knew deep down Alice did as well, she was just hurting and had to take it out on someone. It was always the ones you loved that you hurt the most.

She noticed something out of the corner of her eye, and walked towards the bed. Cyrus had left his mother’s compass lying there, either by accident or design, she wasn’t sure. She picked it up and watched as it spun about, never stopping long enough to show anyone where the object they desired was located.

It would be easy to conclude that it had stopped pointing him to the direction of his mother if she had died, but another thought came to Anastasia. There were so many realms, what if it had stopped because mother and son had been separated not by death, but one leaving for another world completely? Cyrus had already been wished into Wonderland from where he originally hailed from; maybe his mother had gone from that realm to another as well.

“Would you please lower your voices darlings, I’m trying to think,” she snapped, waving towards Alice and Cyrus whose voices had become raised in their heated argument.

Both of them looked over to her, instantly falling silent. Even Will stood from where he was seated to walk over to see what she was up to. She waved her hand over the compass, to see if she could use magic to make it stop, but it continued to spin. This furthered her assumption that maybe it had stopped pointing because they had been separated due to one leaving for another realm.

“Do you remember when it stopped pointing?” she inquired, to which Cyrus shook his head.

“No, I have no way to tell the passage of time when I’m in my bottle,” he told her, curious as to where she was going with her question.

Will snickered. “Yeah Ana, there is no calendar in there.”

She looked up at her the object of her affections, anger sparkling in her blue eyes. “Do not call me Ana, you have no right to that name for the moment. I am Anastasia to you.”

He raised his hands up in a mock surrender, rather frustrated he’d heard her tell Cyrus he could call her Ana. He supposed that had something to do with him trusting her right before everything had gone to hell on them.

Alice glanced down at the compass in Anastasia’s hand, watching as it continuously changed the direction it was spinning in. It almost seemed as though it couldn’t decide which way to point; it was trying to find what Cyrus longed to locate but simply could not determine which way it was to send him. “I can tell you have a plan,” she simply stated, glancing from the compass towards the former Red Queen.

Anastasia nodded, a slight grin playing on her red lips. “I do. Did it stop before you arrived in Wonderland, Cyrus, and was that the first time you had ever been to a different realm?” she asked.

“I’ve been to many lands, but that was the first time I’d ever been sent to a different realm completely. It stopped pointing before I came here, but I cannot tell you how long before,” he answered.

Her slight grin blossomed into a bright smile; she might be able to make amends after all. She’d tried with Alice, by bringing her Cyrus and she knew with Will it would take a lot more than a few well meant words. With Cyrus, she wanted to help him find his mother, or discover what had become of her. There was a good chance she had already passed away, but it could bring him closure to know for certain where she was, either alive or her final resting place.

She might finally be able to atone for all her mistakes, one small step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early, I realized yesterday I might be far too busy tomorrow to edit and review, then post this so I am posting it one day early.
> 
> It will still be every second Monday for updates, until I have this completed. And well, I have another story started as well that I hope to start posting by Valentine's Day. Here's hoping at any rate.
> 
> By the by, I seem to be having a moment...if you notice the name Faarih spelled different a dozen times, sorry. I think I caught all of them and corrected it. As well, writing Jafar is _hard_!


	3. Finding a Common Ground.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will relates his short time as a genie with Alice as they seek out the White Rabbit, Jafar begins to finalize his plans to capture his escaped prisoner while Anastasia and Cyrus find a common ground and understanding.
> 
> In England Millie concocts a plan to hear more of Pari's tale and has a rather eager accomplice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.
> 
> As well, there is an allusion to physical violence in this chapter. Nothing graphic, just a mention...and a sword fight that ends a little poorly. I really am not sure if they require a rating jump but I thought I'd give fair warning. If you think I need to up the rating just let me know. I really have no desire to upset people.

“And where are we going to find this rabbit?” Will inquired as he followed Alice through a wooded area. Night was beginning to fall on Wonderland and he was less than enthusiastic about traipsing about looking for the White Rabbit. “He said to his better half to go to some other family member’s place and well, rabbits tend to have big families. Huge. Never mind they only have two bunnies at the moment...”

Alice groaned, she loved Will like a brother but there were times she really longed for him to stop talking. He didn’t seem to realize a simple ‘where are we going’ would have sufficed without the running commentary as they walked to their destination. There were times she didn’t mind his babbling, or even his somewhat cynical outlook on life, as she knew everyone had different experiences that shaped them, but once in awhile quiet would be nice.

“I know where we’re going,” she told him shortly, still slightly annoyed with everything that had transpired since she’d been reunited with Cyrus. He’d told her life with him would not be easy, and it seemed he wasn’t too far off the mark with that. Just when she thought they were going to finally have their happy ending it all was torn away from them again.

It just didn’t seem fair, but she had to hold on to hope somehow it would all work out. She’d sworn upon returning to Wonderland she’d find a way to free him for good, but it had to be in a way that wouldn’t cost anyone. That was the problem; he’d explained it ended poorly for both parties and evidently the only other option was for someone else to take his place. That didn’t seem right either, why should someone else suffer that life just to free another?

“You still think too loudly,” Will quipped as he jogged up beside her. He could tell she was lost in thought just by the way she was walking, during their travels through Wonderland to find her genie he’d noticed when she was engrossed in her own musings she would waver a bit from her straight path. It always amused him when it happened, but it was getting dark and he’d rather not get turned around.

Alice startled slightly and glanced to her right to find Will looking at her with concern in his eyes. She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “I guess old habits die hard,” she laughed.

Will shrugged; at least he’d taken her mind off all her anger. “Seems that way. I guess we’ve all got them.”

Alice found that statement a bit odd. By the tone in his voice she could tell he didn’t just mean her way of thinking too loudly for his liking, or the fact he had to talk to fill the quiet. She turned down a path between some trees, knowing they were closing in on their destination, but slowed her pace a bit to get in some conversation with Will. “I’m guessing your time in that bottle opened your eyes up a bit.”

Will nodded slightly. It had been quite the experience, to say the least. Not only had he been convinced he was going to be insane by the time he got back out, but there was all the strange thoughts that rushed through his mind. He was not someone to take orders, ever, or feel like he should be submissive to someone else. He would never look upon someone else as his better, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was make sure someone was pleased. If he ran upon someone who wasn’t happy with whatever he’d done for them at some point in time, that wasn’t his problem.

Yet now he had that thought in the back of his mind, no matter how much he tried to push it aside. He knew it had nothing to do with having his heart back; this was something to do with being a genie. It actually bothered him slightly he could see where Cyrus was coming from in this whole mess. “You know I would always take your side in anything, because we’re good mates, but this is one time I have to say I can see Cyrus’ side. There was no other option, and even though I still think he’s a self sacrificing fool, I’m glad he switched our places back.”

“That almost sounded heartfelt. I guess that has something to do with having your heart back?” she asked, her voice a little tight. She knew there had been no other option, and Cyrus had done the only thing possible in the situation. That didn’t stop her from being a little resentful he’d done it without talking to her first, and that it effectively put him back in danger.

Will shrugged, glancing up at the starlit sky. “Yeah well, you know me. If you want the truth I likely would have talked someone into trading places with me anyway so it was a good thing it was Cyrus who decided to let me out to play. But it sure was an eye opener on what sort of life he’s had. Sure I didn’t have more than one person summon me, but I still have all these annoying notions of making sure someone is happy and wanting to keep the person who summoned me pleased. Rather glad it was a short lived thing, seeing as it isn’t a strong desire, but I can imagine with him it is a way of life. He likely wanted you to be happy, and if Jafar had come along you’d have lost two people you cared for instead of just one. I’m not saying I agree with him doing all this without talking to you first, but I actually understand it. In the long run, no matter how much you both talked it over you know full well there was no other option.”

Alice stopped in her tracks, the sound of the sorcerer’s name making her chest tighten with fear. That was her biggest concern; she didn’t want to lose anyone but she knew Jafar would be coming sooner or later. She hoped it would be later, long after they’d left Wonderland and hopefully this time he’d be unable to locate Cyrus. She didn’t know what role the man she loved played in this spell he wanted to cast, and she didn’t want to know. The outcome would bode ill for everyone that much was certain.

Will noticed the change in attitude and suggested they find the White Rabbit and quickly. Somehow he knew Jafar would be coming soon, and he’d rather they all get out of Wonderland together and hopefully put all this behind them.

He still had no desire to go anywhere with Anastasia, but he didn’t tell Alice that. He could deal with that after they were all out of danger, even though he had his doubts Cyrus would be leaving with them. Jafar was determined; he would do anything to get to what he wanted, and unfortunately what he wanted was Cyrus and the wishes.

It was then he felt another pang in his heart, and this one wasn’t from old wounds. He pushed it down, trying not to think that he’d actually had a bit of fear that Jafar would go after Anastasia when he realized who now held the genie’s will.

**********

Jafar grinned as he took in the sight of the repaired cage in his dungeon. Cyrus would not be escaping this time, unless he was intent on finding out how long it took for silver to char his skin.

It was possible this time he was being horrifically cruel. Since the genie had managed to cut a hole in the bottom of the cage, due to it being the only part that wasn’t silver, he’d made sure the entire thing was made of the metal this time. He was doing one kindness, making sure there was a blanket left for Cyrus to keep something between himself and the silver, but he certainly wasn’t going to leave him any chance of escape.

His eyes roved up towards his other lone prisoner, almost wishing he could find some way of punishing him further for encouraging Cyrus in his foolish antics. But then, he’d killed Mirza right before the sultan’s eyes and imprisoned him, which would be quite a demeaning change in status.

“Soon you shall have a break, old man, from your daily toils,” he taunted, grinning widely at the thought of finally having the genie back in his possession. It bothered him he’d still have to get the bottle and force Alice into her last wish, but he was sure he could manage to create a situation to force the girl to use it. He would not risk making her feel coerced into that wish with Cyrus close by, or his bottle as then she’d be able to escape with him in hand.

The sultan, Aamir, looked at the sorcerer skeptically. He’d known sooner or later he’d be seeing Cyrus again, but he didn’t care much for the implication that Jafar was going to allow the guards to harm the genie as pay back for killing one of their own. “How do you plan to monitor the treatment your guards bestow upon Cyrus? They have a habit of becoming overzealous in the heat of the moment and I assume killing him would ruin your plans.”

Jafar laughed, a rather mocking and cruel sound that would not leave room for anyone to assume he was amused. “You would be amazed how well the threat of bodily harm does to keep someone in line. It obviously didn’t work on the genie, but he’s a fool. Dreaming of a life he can never have again, but soon he’ll remember his place in the world for however long his life extends after the spell is cast,” he stated, as he turned and marched out of the room.

There were plans to make, and a few spell books to consult. It was a child’s trick to create the one thing that would stop Cyrus in his tracks, freezing him with fear, but Jafar would not risk messing up the spell in the heat of the moment.

Cyrus would not get away from him this time; he was going to be certain of that.

**********

Millie grinned as she dashed into the dress shop, ready to be fitted for her new dress and hear more of Pari’s story about Nadira, Cyrus, Faarih and Raheem. She could hardly stop thinking about the tale the woman had begun the day previous, and had had a very hard time not talking about it with her mother on the ride home. It was absolutely fascinating and so different from all the fairy tales she was used to hearing from some friends, as her mother kept those sorts of books out of the house.

Sarah had even fired a governess she’d had years previous, all for telling the tale of Cinderella to her one sun soaked afternoon in the garden. Millie had a feeling she wasn’t allowed fanciful tales because of Alice, which upset her slightly. The brief time she’d been around her older sister had been some of the happiest, even if Alice was mourning the death of the man she loved. Millie had thrilled when her father had slipped up and said the man was actually a genie who had escaped from an evil sorcerer. It was exciting to think that Wonderland was real, and now even her father had been there.

Millie grinned widely when Pari walked over with her dress in hand. Sarah had left her there for the few hours it would take to have the dress altered and fitted just right, as it was a well known fact Millie was fussy and could never make up her mind on anything. And this time she intended to be fussier than usual.

“What happened with Faarih? Did Cyrus show him up?” she asked in an excited whisper as Pari helped her up onto a stool to give her some height.

A sadness flitted through Pari’s dark eyes at the sound of her children’s names, but Millie didn’t notice it in her excitement. “He did, much to the youngest prince’s misfortune and their father’s displeasure,” she answered, laughing slightly to ward off her sadness. Although when she thought it over, it wasn’t exactly something to laugh over. What a mess that incident had been.

Maybe this wasn’t the best story to be telling, but it had been so long ago she felt maybe it was time to allow her children to live on through a story. One day Millie would have children of her own and possibly tell the story of these three princes, not aware that one of them was actually still very much alive, just lost to his mother.

Millie tried to stand still as Pari continued her tale, hoping against hope she’d get quite a bit of it in before her mother returned. In the evenings after tea and her mother retired for the night she wanted to continue telling it to her father. He’d taken great interest in the tale, and had given a strange look when she’d said one of the prince’s was named Cyrus.

It was almost as though he should know the name, but he couldn’t tell from where.

**********

_“You’re going to be late,” Nava laughed as Cyrus gave her a quick kiss on the forehead._

_He pulled back and smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. He longed to deny it, but he was falling in love with her and he knew he couldn’t afford to. That night he’d be meeting his future wife and he refused to follow in his father’s footsteps, as well as the long line of Shahs before him, and keep a harem of mistresses. He cared too much for Nava to degrade her in such a way. She deserved more than that and there were many other young men who longed to court her and give her the proper life he could not. “I think Faarih deserves to think he’s impressed whoever this girl is for awhile,” he answered, trying to kiss her again._

_Nava put her hands up against his shoulders and gave him a slight push away, feeling bad when he looked at her confused. He pulled away, trying to hide the hurt from showing on his face. “Cyrus, you know there are only two options in our relationship and we need to stop this now.”_

_He sighed, he was well aware he was going to have to begin seeing less of her soon, which would be hard as she did often frequent court life. That was another reason he wouldn’t keep her as a mistress; she was actually a high born lady and he was fairly certain that wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t sure; as he’d never given it much thought and wouldn’t dare ask his father. Naseem might take that as his oldest finally starting to tow the line in all that was expected of him and that was one thing he refused to take part in. If he was to marry this princess then he would commit to only her, like in the book he’d read from that far off kingdom._

_“You and Nadira really should have burned that book instead of reading it,” she said, reaching out and taking his hands in hers. She had seen the princess reading the stories one day and had shook her head, it really had put foolish thoughts into the oldest and youngest of the royal siblings. “It has brought neither of you any happiness. It is well and good for those born as royals in the Enchanted Forest may more often than not marry for love, but you know that isn’t possible for you and most likely Nadira will have the same fate as you when it comes to marriage. I love you dearly Cyrus, but you know we must end this now.”_

_Cyrus smiled sadly, nodding in agreement. Yet another reason he hated his position, why couldn’t he have been the second born? Or simply born into a different family? He knew Raheem held a lot of envy over the fact he was the crown prince and it had affected their relationship in the past year. “I suppose we should say our farewells now, as this princess has arrived but I am not to meet her until tonight,” he stated, trying to keep the note of sadness out of his voice._

_He really did hate the fact it was his birthday and there was nothing he could do about this arranged marriage. He glanced at Nava who was smiling at him sadly. “I do wish you all the best in life, Nava. I hope you do find someone who will give you all the happiness I regretfully cannot,” he softly said, lifting one of her hands up to lightly kiss it._

_She didn’t say anything in return, just smiled as he stood and walked away from her. With a sigh she got up from her seated position and walked out of the secluded garden in the large courtyard, trying to find a good reason not to attend the festivities that night. She’d known this day would be the end of their relationship, and she did not wish to see him with this princess he was meant to marry._

_Unbeknownst to either of them, someone had been hiding in the shadows observing them. The young woman couldn’t help herself when she’d realized who she’d found, if she was meant to marry him she wanted to know something of his character._

_In a way she found some comfort in knowing that he was as enthusiastic over their marriage as she was, although she had yet to end her relationship with the man she loved. Unlike this prince, her love with a very low born young man and she simply could not tell him it was over. He was well aware what this trip entailed, but being the optimist he’d refused to allow her to end things just yet._

_She thought he was being a touch foolish, but allowed him his fanciful dreams and hopes. If only she could feel that way, and if only she’d had the sense to end it before she’d left. At least Cyrus had broken things off with the young woman he was enamoured with, whilst she was going to just live in hope that when she didn’t return after her marriage he would realize she was never going return to him._

_“Jasmyn? Why are you hiding out here?”_

_Princess Jasmyn jumped slightly when she heard the voice of her hand maiden, Saida, next to her. She turned and grinned at the woman who had accompanied her and her father from Agrabah to see to the wedding and chaperone her first meeting with Prince Cyrus. “I was just taking in the garden, that’s all,” she lied._

_Saida shook her head and laughed. “Your father would be unhappy to hear you were spying on your betrothed,” she admonished._

_Jasmyn bowed her head, a little ashamed of what she’d just been doing. She knew better, but she couldn’t help herself either. She’d been hearing about him since she was a child, how could she contain her curiosity to see what he looked like at the very least? She was eighteen to his twenty years, she couldn’t help being a little shallow and worrying he would be ugly. For all she knew, he might be worried she was far from attractive as well._

_“At least he is very handsome, and appears to be quite noble. I know you have not let go of your secret suitor back home, your highness,” Saida told her as they walked out of the garden and back towards her rooms._

_Jasmyn sighed, she’d been a bit of a coward in that respect. She knew she was not going home to Agrabah after her marriage which would happen in the next few months. If that did not give Aladdin the idea she was never coming home, she didn’t know what would. Other than her telling him, of course, and she just could not bring herself break his heart._

_She’d known they were never meant to be married, it would only happen if he were a prince. She thought he was better than a prince, but her father would not see it that way._

_But at least Cyrus seemed to be a good man; she knew eventually she would learn to love him. Maybe not in the same way she loved Aladdin, but she knew she could grow fond of him in time._

_And obviously he was more noble than she, as he’d let go of the woman he seemed to be in love with. Jasmyn envied him that trait._

**********

The opening of the door silenced Pari’s tale long before it reached the sword play part, much to Millie’s annoyance. Of all the times for her mother to finish up her errands and arrive early to pick her up, this was the worst time of them all.

Sarah walked over and took a sweeping glance of the party dress, nodding in approval. It lacked any detailing that she felt was unnecessary, even if Edwin had wanted his little girl to look like a princess for her party. Sarah didn’t see the point to that; she could still look pretty without all the frivolous additions to the dress.

“Do I have to go now mum?” Millie whined as Pari helped her off the stool. The dress was finished, all that was left was to reinforce any alterations which could be done without her standing there, much to her displeasure. She wanted to hear more of the story.

Sarah looked at her oddly, normally her daughter didn’t whine in such a way. “Of course we do, there is no point standing around here bothering these fine women in their work. We’ll be back in a few days to pick up your dress, you can come along then for the few minutes that will take.”

Millie was about ready to have a little tantrum, she wanted to hear more of the story, not go home to chase butterflies in the garden or whatever activity seemed to be appropriate for a little girl of her age. But she also knew throwing a fit wouldn’t get her anywhere with her mother.

She bid Pari good bye and took her mother’s hand, following her out of the shop. She was forming another idea in her head, a lovely little plot to get more of the story and get away with it right under her mother’s nose.

All she had to do was convince her father to join in on it.

**********

“Is this the first time you’ve done something without consulting Alice first?” Anastasia asked, smiling as Cyrus jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. For someone who always seemed very aware of his surroundings he could be far too easy to startle at times.

He looked over at Anastasia who was still turning his compass over in her slender hands, as if she thought she could figure out the riddle to why it no longer worked. He wished her luck, but fancied it was simply the fact his mother was no longer living, much to his sorrow. “I’ve never done anything without talking it over with her first and the same goes for her. There are small things we’ve done without the other’s knowledge prior, but never anything like this.”

Anastasia nodded, glancing back down at the compass. It did mirrored what she’d done to Will in a way, although she had her doubts he would ever forgive her for that transgression. If only he would hear her out, if she hadn’t agreed to marry the king both of their heads would have been on the chopping block, as the man wasn’t stupid. He knew who her partner in crime was.

She bit her bottom lip, her mind wandering from the compass to everything that had transpired in recent months. It struck her strange she’d been more than willing to possibly end Cyrus’ life, all in the pursuit of changing the past to go back to a time when Will still had love for her shining in his eyes. She wasn’t clear what fate awaited the genies required for the spell, but something told her if they didn’t end up dead they’d long for the release that could only be found in death.

She snuck a glance over at Cyrus, who was standing near the door, fidgeting with the pendant Alice had returned to him. The soft glow of it seeped through his fingers from time to time; he was obviously lost in thought. It was strange, she’d been willing to sacrifice whatever sort of life he had for her own happiness, and yet he was the first one to speak up for her.

She wondered what sort of life he’d had, after being imprisoned in that bottle. For herself, as a queen, she’d been lonely. She had her husband, but he was further advanced in age than she therefore they had very little in common to talk about. He treated her well, and showered her with gifts and anything else her heart could desire, but it was not a happy life for her. The pretty gowns, sparkling jewels and wonderful balls could never make up for what she’d lost. She would have traded them all in for one fleeting moment of Will looking at her with nothing but devotion.

After the king had passed away her loneliness increased tenfold, and she’d learned quickly she had no friends. The Tweedles were more flatterers than they were friends, she was certain neither had a brain between them. A good chance they had at least half one, but not a complete brain that functioned. All the courtiers flattered her but she couldn’t trust any of them, there was no one she could count as someone to confide in and call a friend. 

She’d made the mistake once of confiding in one young woman close in age to herself, shortly after her husband’s death, mentioning the man she had loved before her marriage. She had always thought of this person as a friend and confident, right until her words spread throughout the court. That was when she’d turned her emotions off and became the cold queen everyone knew her as. The young woman had been banned from court, under threat of death, and she never opened up to anyone again.

She had been alone in a crowd, locked away in her palace with pretty things but no one to love her or for her to love in return. In a way, she could start to understand why Cyrus had fought so hard to get back to Alice, why his faith that she’d come for him was so unfailing no matter how much she and Jafar had mocked him and terrorized him with the idea she’d never return for him. They’d shared a love so strong, nothing could severe it. How she longed to feel that again herself.

How many lifetimes had he spent alone in that bottle? How many years between masters had he been locked away in there, and when he was finally let out were they always good people? It struck her strange how she could feel a friendship starting to form based on their very different, yet similar, life experiences. They both were intimately acquainted with loneliness, and although Alice also understood that feeling Anastasia wasn’t certain if the girl would ever be open to a friendship with her as well.

“What are you thinking about?” Cyrus finally ventured to ask, curious as to why Anastasia was looking so pensive. They’d all been through a lot in such a short time, and although Will and Alice were less than pleased to have the former Red Queen in their company he didn’t feel the same way.

She had helped Jafar capture him, and had done so many unforgivable things but he knew she regretted a good many of them. He’d always been able to read people, even before becoming a genie. Afterwards though he’d learned quickly to know what sort of person had summoned him. Many were good people; they were either kind to him or indifferent, either way worked fine. He preferred when they were good and treated him almost as if he was human like them, but if they wanted to be indifferent that was agreeable to him as well. At least those masters weren’t cruel; they just didn’t care one way or the other for him. As long as he granted their wishes, that was all that mattered.

It was when he was summoned and he knew without a shadow of a doubt the person had a mean streak that he worried. Those masters spent most of the time yelling at him, belittling him and talking to him as if he was nothing. In a way he was nothing, and he knew that. Only once had he been unfortunate enough to be summoned by a master who actually turned physically violent towards him.

The man had been accustomed to keeping servants, and had seen Cyrus as even lower than that. When he’d told Alice he’d been a slave to man he wasn’t lying, and it was that master that reinforced the thought in his mind. It had been degrading to go from a crown prince and heir to a kingdom to a slave endowed with magical abilities to serve others. If it hadn’t been for one of the man’s rather bold sons he likely would have incurred serious injury at some point, all for stating once again he couldn’t kill anyone for the man through wishes. In all truth though, as the man had taken his anger out on him, he’d wondered why he needed it done through magic as he seemed more than capable of carrying the deed out on his own. He had longed to fight back, but in truth it wasn’t his place. He was more than capable of defending himself but as a genie his sole purpose was to make sure his master was happy, and sadly it seemed violence made that particular master quite happy. Anytime he thought about that particular incident, he knew he didn’t fight back because he had no reason to. Not until Alice, he may let her make the first move when it came to people attempting to steal him from her, but she gave him a reason and purpose after lifetimes of having nothing.

Thankfully the man had given his wishes to his son in a fit of anger, whilst his child had tended to any wounds Cyrus had suffered during the altercation. The son actually bore a strange resemblance to Faarih, which had only made Cyrus feel worse about the life he had agreed to. How he longed to be at the wrong end of one of his brother’s pranks, anything would be preferable to all he was enduring.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind; that was the past. All those masters, the good and the bad, were long dead and his former life was forever lost to him. He was no longer a prince and he never would be one again. It was strange to think he could understand Anastasia, even though he’d been surrounded with family, he had been lonely. He was the crown prince, and there were so many duties that fell upon him that he could not ignore.

He had to be careful with whom he spoke to, and even more selective on whom he trusted with any and all confidences. Even his brothers were not to be trusted, as Faarih was one to proclaim any secret from the rooftops and Raheem had been envious of the fact he was the heir to the throne. Cyrus would have happily traded places with his brother, given the chance. He didn’t want to rule the kingdom, but knew it was what he was born to do.

Even Nava, he had loved her dearly, but he couldn’t trust her either. There had always been the fear when he broke off their relationship that she could become bitter, despite saying she understood, and spread around things he had said. He had been foolish one evening and confided in her his fears, and even his resentment, over being the crown prince. That had given him cause for concern, and after his imprisonment he always wondered if she’d shared any of what he’d told her.

It was only in Nadira he ever confided in, as he knew she would keep his secrets and would take them to the grave. 

It was strange, both he and Anastasia had come from very different backgrounds: he had been born royal and she had married into her position, yet they did share an understanding of each other.

Anastasia walked over to him at his question, and dared to reach out and touch the pendant he still was fidgeting with. It was magical, she’d felt that when Jafar had handed it to her after he’d removed it from the sleeping genie. She’d always wondered about it, but knew she’d never get any answers. That was until now, of course. They both seemed to have come to an understanding and beginning of a friendship born of similar life experiences, surely she could ask him some questions now. “Why is this pendant so dear to you? I understand the compass, but what is it about this?”

He frowned, he really didn’t want to answer but there was no harm in it, other than the memories. “It was given to me on my last mortal birthday, by my sister who passed away not long after the day. She had our brother, Raheem, seek out a sorcerer to enchant it. He’d had a flair for finding people he shouldn’t, and he’d always been interested in magic, although our father felt it was unbecoming for someone of his station. She’d begged him to find a way to enchant it so it would glow when I found my true love, and not a one of us could say no to Nadira,” he explained, noting by the look in Anastasia’s eyes he’d just prompted even more questions with that.

“Why was magic so wrong for him to have an interest in? Surely your father could understand his desire to learn, instead of keeping him from such pursuits. I’m a queen and I can perform magic, and why was finding true love so important? Surely you would have had many young women after you when you were human,” she observed, smiling slightly. She was attracted to Will, but would concede Cyrus was quite good looking as well, if she went for that look.

“Magic was for sorcerers, not royalty. Our father didn’t want us partaking in anything that was out of the ordinary for royals, and Nadira worried about my impending marriage being one void of love, despite her young age. Not that I had a choice in the matter, it had been arranged when both I and the woman in question were just children,” Cyrus told her.

Anastasia’s expression became pensive as she mulled over his words. She’d thought he’d been born in a higher class by the way he acted, even when he’d been Jafar’s prisoner she’d wondered. Now she had it confirmed he’d been a prince, but with the mention of an arranged marriage her mind began to whirl. That was normal with royalty, not always in the Enchanted Forest, but she knew it happened in other kingdoms, or at least it did in a time long passed. Her eyes suddenly went wide as she looked up at him, noticing how he smiled shyly and looked away.

“You had an arranged marriage? Cyrus, you were heir to the throne of the kingdom you came from, weren’t you?” she gasped, grabbing his hands to hold them in her in shock.

He simply nodded; there were no more words to be said. He knew she would have figured it out eventually, she’d recognize some of his mannerisms as being that of royalty. He may have spent countless lifetimes a genie but it would take a lot longer than that to break him of habits that had been ingrained in him since he could speak.

She looked at him imploringly, her eyes begging him to tell her more. This was more than she’d ever expected when she’d first heard of him. She had always assumed genies just were, but when she’d realized this one had once been human she had been interested in what he was before he’d been put in that bottle. If only he would trust her enough to tell her, she knew he owed her nothing, but she could hope he might give her something.

“If I tell you any of my history, you must promise not to tell Alice. I will stop talking when her and the Knave return, and shall not continue the tale until we are alone again,” he told her, his voice taking a serious but wistful tone.

She nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you want anyone else to know?” she inquired, leading him over towards somewhere to sit as she was certain this would be a long tale.

Cyrus sighed as he sank down on to the end of the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve gone from a crown prince to a magical slave; the look of pity in her eyes might be more than I can bear. I will tell her one day, but I wish to choose when that shall be and not be forced into it. I know she loves me, but this is not something I’m willing to share just yet,” he explained.

“I understand, and I promise I will not tell her,” Anastasia swore, waiting for him to begin his tale and hoping Alice and Will would not return too soon. She understood why he had no desire for Alice to know his history, although she felt it would be better if he told her. Secrets and deception did nothing for a relationship, but you couldn’t force someone to talk, or listen. She knew at some point she would have to tell Will what had transpired in the palace when they’d gone to steal the crown jewels, but she was not prepared to tell him just yet. Not until she was certain he was even slightly open to hearing her side.

They needed to leave Wonderland, but she did long to learn just a little about Cyrus. He was her only friend, and he seemed to have figured out so much about her without her disclosing one bit of information. All she wanted was to know something about his past, even if it wouldn’t be much.

“I only have one other request in return,” he said, looking at her imploringly. 

She nodded her agreement, he was about to tell her something he’d not spoken of to anyone else, the least she could promise was to do something for him in return. “What is it?”

His gaze went towards his compass, which she was holding again in one hand. His nervous habit seemed to be playing with the pendant around his neck and she’d acquired one for turning his compass over in her hands. “I want to know what exactly you fancy you’ll do to make that compass work again.”

She smiled brightly, that was a simple enough request that she would not deny. “Of course, it is the least I can do.”

**********

Millie bounced a bit when she walked into her favourite tearoom in London. It was the place she frequented with her father during the week to have a break from Sarah, as she could be suffocating to them both. They loved the woman in their own ways respectively, but like all things you love every so often you need a respite from them. Or at least that was how they felt towards Sarah, it didn’t apply to everyone they loved.

Edwin had finally realized, much too late, that he loved Alice, and wished to have her at his side until he drew his last breath but despaired that would ever happen. She shouldn’t have used that wish, he would have rather died for all the heartache he had caused her, and he worried what that meant for her and the genie she loved. If that was her second wish, he could only hope she wasn’t forced into the third. He hadn’t been worth wasting a wish on.

Although if he had a wish right about then, he might yield to temptation to use it remember the name of the genie. Of all the strange things that had happened in Wonderland, every word of it he swore was a dream to appease Sarah, he could not remember the name of the man his daughter loved. He’d always heard the old adage ‘be careful what you wish for’ and could only assume wishes always came with a cost, and the name of the genie seemed to be a small cost.

He scanned the room, looking for the person they were meeting. Millie had convinced him they had to have their daily tea with Pari, the woman who worked at the dress shop Sarah frequented. At first he’d been reluctant to go along with this crazy notion, but he also longed to hear more of this story and from the source as sometimes Millie got ahead of herself and had to back track the tale to clear things up. At times, it could get a bit confusing, but he’d managed to piece the story together thus far.

A woman caught his eye, and he could only assume it was Pari by her exotic beauty. The woman glanced to them and smiled, signifying to him she was who they’d come to meet. Millie grabbed his hand and led him over to the table in the corner of the room, a place they could have tea and talk without being seen by anyone Sarah may know that could be passing by.

“Good afternoon, I’m Edwin Chattoway and I believe you know my daughter Millie,” he said, extending a hand in greeting as the woman they’d come to meet stood.

Pari smiled brightly and grasped his hand to shake it. She introduced herself as well, almost forgetting the last name she had adopted in this realm as she’d not had one in her own. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Chattoway, I’m Pari James,” she said, still finding the last name odd on her tongue when she said it.

Edwin smiled and insisted on being called simply Edwin, pulling out her chair for her as she sat again. Once they were settled and had ordered their tea Millie jumped in asking for more of the story.

Pari laughed, noting the excited look in Edwin’s eyes as well. She was glad to be able to tell the story of her children, even if it did pain her to remember. It had been such a long time ago, so many lifetimes had passed, yet the ache lived on for her.

If only she could find the one who was lost to her, maybe then she could start to feel as though she was alive again instead of just existing.

**********

_Faarih grinned as the last of his opponents conceded to defeat by the sword of the youngest prince. He was assured he’d impressed Shirina more than enough, there was no chance she could doubt his skill with a sword after this display and she’d be more than happy to accompany him to the evening’s festivities._

_He sheathed his sword, grinning wide at his victory. Just as he was about to walk away from the people who had assembled to watch his display of sword play he noted Nadira running forward, Cyrus a few steps behind her._

_“You haven’t had anyone really challenge you, brother. Why not someone your equal in both status and skill?” she inquired, grinning as the people assembled instantly began to look intrigued by this challenge._

_Faarih shot Nadira and annoyed glare; he didn’t want to fight Cyrus. Not simply because he was worried his brother would show him up, as he was fairly convinced his older brother did not fret over learning about sword play, but he was worried he might accidently injure his brother on his birthday and end up on the wrong end of their father’s ire._

_But with Shirina watching he could not resist the desire to unarm his oldest brother, and the crown prince on his birthday no less. The temptation was too great, and he could not yield to it. He knew he should, but he’d never been one to listen to his own common sense._

_“Then draw your sword, Cyrus, and we’ll see who is the more skilled of us both. Although I warn you, I fear you will find yourself admitting defeat to one younger than you,” he challenged, a wide grin enveloping his face as Cyrus stepped forward and drew his own sword._

_Nadira watched with glee, she loved observing her brothers practice their sword play. Sadly, as a girl, she was not allowed to train with them, her father had relented and allowed her to learn how to use a sword but she was not permitted to practice with the men. It was fortunate her mother knew how to use a sword, or she’d spend her time swatting hers’ at a tree for practice._

_Pari came and sat beside her daughter, stealing a sideways glance at the girl her youngest son was trying to win over. The girl did seem impressed with Faarih, and appeared slightly surprised he’d taken on his older brother. Her eyes seemed to widen even more as the sword fight went on, but Pari soon realized it wasn’t just out of disbelief at what she was seeing, but worry as well._

_She turned to see the fight had become far more serious than it was meant to be. This was solely meant to put Faarih in his place, to teach him that every time he played a trick on his siblings that landed them in trouble, they would get him back in some shape or form. This may have started out with that intention, but it was more than obvious to Pari something in Cyrus had snapped and he was taking his frustrations out in this sword fight, and if he wasn’t careful he would find himself in even more trouble than he was already in._

_Faarih jumped out of the way just in the nick of time, wondering what he could do or say to defuse his brother. Despite the way he acted, he had noticed over the past few weeks Cyrus was stressed, mind that didn’t stop him from playing that trick that got his brother in hot water with their father. In retrospect, he likely should have held off on that until after the birthday had passed._

_Unlike Raheem, he did not harbour any feeling of envy towards Cyrus. He was glad he was not the crown prince, as he had no desire to have all those responsibilities on his shoulders. He had his own duties to see to, but nothing to the extent of the oldest of them all. It always baffled him why Raheem was so jealous of him, he’d noticed as they had grown older they’d begun to see less and less of Cyrus and when they did finally spend time with him he wasn’t always the best company._

_“Cyrus!” he shouted, darting out of the way again. Sadly, this time he wasn’t fast enough and he yelped when he felt the blade slice into his upper arm._

_The sound of his cry brought Cyrus out of his thoughts, and he instantly regretted what he’d done. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he’d been in a daze, he hadn’t even noticed he was acting as if he was training with one of the men his father had him work with on a daily basis. He knew better, this was his youngest brother, someone who was not as skilled as he with a sword, despite his boastful nature. Faarih wouldn’t be able to block and parry the same as his own instructors, he was actually thankful he hadn’t thought to bring a second sword with him. In his distracted state he could have caused serious injury, or even killed his little brother._

_He watched the deep crimson blood slowly spill out of the shallow flesh wound he’d inflicted on his brother, staining the white of his shirt red, eyes wide and disbelieving. He’d never inflicted an injury on any of his siblings before, not intentionally. Of course there had been scrapes when they were young boys, but nothing to this level._

_He dropped his sword, unsure what to do. Their mother had rushed forward, as well as a few of the servants that had been standing around. The one thing Cyrus knew for certain was he was in a lot of trouble for this. He wasn’t to allow his emotions to cloud his judgements, he was to stay cool and level headed with all he did and every thought._

_Everything around him was a complete mess. Faarih was looking at him with shock in his eyes, the courtiers gathered around were whispering and he could pretty well guess what was being said. There had always been question if he would be able to take the responsibility of the throne when the time came, he wasn’t the cool and collected one like Raheem, and he did have a habit of letting his emotions rule at times. Even their father had despaired at how he failed to think at times, making a decision based on emotions rather than cold logic._

_Before he could even think to leave he felt someone grab him by his upper arm, and he looked over to find himself looking into the fiery eyes of his father. Cyrus didn’t resist when he was dragged into the palace, he knew he was about to get the lecture of his life, and one he likely wouldn’t soon forget._

_A small part of him wished this transgression would be enough to somehow lose the title of crown prince, let it go to Raheem, he didn’t care what sort of shame would be his to live with. He simply wanted out of this life and out of this arranged marriage. Why couldn’t his father understand?_

_**********_

_Nadira was cautious walking into the gardens as the sun was setting. The festivities had started hours earlier, but she’d seen Cyrus manage to slip away after being introduced to his betrothed wife. The crown prince was not having a good day, to say the very least. After his last talk with their father it was more than obvious Cyrus was in the worst mood anyone had ever seen him in. He hardly spoke, and if he did he kept it short and his voice was laced with anger. Even his smile was forced, and that saddened her as he had the loveliest smile, so far as she was concerned._

_He had pulled it together when introduced to the princess from Agrabah, and even Nadira had to admit that Jasmyn was very pretty, and they made a beautiful couple, but it was obvious her heart was not in the marriage either. It actually made Nadira sad that these sorts of things happened, all in an effort to forge an alliance with another kingdom._

_She wished life could be like in that book from the Enchanted Forest, where they all could marry for love. Raheem and Faarih would have a little leeway when it came to marriage, but she knew, despite her young age, they’d still have to pick someone noble. Like Cyrus, she was fairly certain whom she would marry would be chosen for her, although that was years away._

_As she turned a corner she found Cyrus standing by himself, looking towards the ground with a blank expression on his face. She wanted to sneak up on him, but the cough that had begun to plague her as the day progressed decided to ruin her fun._

_Cyrus glanced up, surprised to find Nadira standing a few feet away from him. As far as he knew, she was to have retired to her rooms by this point as she was still considered too young to stay up throughout the entire night no matter what they were holding a celebration for. He walked over to her, asking why she was still awake when it was obvious she was feeling unwell._

_She removed her hand from over her mouth, and with her other produced a small box. “I wanted to give you my birthday gift for you,” she informed him, smiling._

_Cyrus laughed, a real smile gracing his face, as he took the box from her. “You should be in bed, it sounds to me as though you are coming down with some illness,” he said._

_Nadira shrugged, bouncing slightly as he took the pendant out of the box, looking it over appreciatively. She knew he’d received many extravagant gifts that night, from their parents and other nobles, as well as the sultan from Agrabah, but she hoped this small trinket would be enough. She knew Cyrus was not impressed by huge overtures, unlike Raheem, but she was worried the pendant would be something he shrugged off._

_Raheem had told her it was a silly gift, even as he promised to find someone to enchant it for her. “I hope you like it, the pendant is enchanted. When you find your true love it will glow,” she explained, her sparkling brown eyes looking at him hopefully. She wanted him to say if he liked it or not before she was found out of her rooms._

_He reached out and pulled her into a hug, thanking her for the gift. “It is lovely, but why did you have it enchanted? We both know this marriage with Jasmyn is going to happen, no matter how much I argue with father.”_

_Nadira giggled a bit, he really did need to stop antagonizing their father over every little thing. It would be simpler to just nod and agree with him, he was set in the traditions and ways he had grown up with, she knew once Cyrus took the throne he could very well start to change things, other than his arranged marriage but he could ensure no other heir would be subjected to one._

_“Maybe one day it will glow when you are near Jasmyn, she could be your true love,” she said, just as another cough tore through her slight frame._

_Cyrus pulled out of the hug, and placed his hands on her shoulders whilst looking her over. Earlier that day she’d felt warm to him, and even now she seemed to have gone up slightly in temperature. The cough had started a few days prior, and despite her insistence it was getting better he was certain it sounded worse._

_Instead of chastising her for being out in the cool night air with that cough, he smiled warmly at her and suggested he escort her back to her rooms. She gladly agreed to his suggestion, and took his hand in hers, looking happily on as he put the pendant around his neck. “I hope it does glow one day, I bet it will look pretty,” she said, coughing slightly._

_He grinned, trying to keep the sadness and worry out of his face. “I hope it does as well.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this chapter was alright...it has been driving me insane for a few days as it is so long (23 pages in Word...granted I have the text at 14 point due to vision problems, so if there are punctuation marks missing that is why). Either way, I hope it was enjoyable and that I caught all the spelling/grimmer mistakes!
> 
> And yes, I had to go there in Cyrus' back story. I hadn't actually intended to weave _Aladdin_ in there, I was just going to loosely work with _The Three Princes_ (and I mean loosely...the version I read was very violent), but you know how it goes, characters just do what they want.
> 
> See you in two weeks. :)


	4. Thoughts of the Past, Fears for the Future.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before their hopeful departure from Wonderland, once and for all, Will contemplates his past and the relationship he once shared with Anastasia. He also makes, what he thinks, is a rather amusing discovery about Cyrus while Jafar watches in the shadows.
> 
> In England, Pari continues her tale, but before her rapt audience arrives she thinks back on the path she'd taken in order to find her lost son again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

Pari sighed sadly as she waited at what had become their usual table in the tea room. It almost seemed sad to her that both Millie and Edwin felt they had to hide from Sarah; all in order to hear what they thought were fanciful tales of whimsy and wonder.

If only they knew the truth, she wanted to tell them at times that the story she was relating to them was something that had happened, and not some made up story. In her travels she had heard other tales similar to the one she was currently telling, but the situation and setting was always different, the names were changed or omitted completely, yet in a way it made her somewhat pleased to know the story of her sons at the very least lived on, and that of the princess her oldest was to marry.

She’d spent days now telling them about the wedding preparations, but today’s story would not be the joyous one they were expecting. Millie, being quite the optimist, was expecting Cyrus and Jasmine to fall in love suddenly. She was convinced his pendant from Nadira would begin to glow. Edwin, on the other hand, seemed to be having a time wrapping his mind around the concept of forcing children to marry. She almost commented on how his wife pretty much forced his oldest daughter to leave for an asylum but managed to hold her tongue.

It was a different time, and even a different realm. It was strange when she thought about how time passed in each realm. A week in this one could be a month elsewhere, or maybe only hours. Once more it had her wondering where Cyrus was, who had him and if they treating him well.

It was that desperation to know those answers which had brought her to the one man known in her realm that could help her. There were others who may have been able to help, even in her own land, but somehow she knew this man was the one who would aide her without too many questions. He would most likely want something in return, as no favours from him came without a price, but she would gave willingly paid it to stay alive and hopefully find her son once more.

**********

_“Well, aren’t we far from home, your highness,” a highly amused voice commented as the door to the large house opened before she had a chance to raise her hand to knock._

_Pari was slightly shocked, she had no idea how this man, if he was still considered one, knew she was coming. She’d heard legends about him but in her part of the world there was so little known of him, and even then you had to find the right person to speak with. The only thing she knew was he possessed great power and everything with him came at a price. The price meant little to her, so long as she would see her son again._

_The man laughed, and waved her in. “I take it my name proceeds my reputation in your part of the world, as I can tell you’re not from the Enchanted Forest, dearie.”_

_“I would say that is fairly obvious, Rumplestiltskin,” she answered as she walked in, taking in the sights around her. Everything made it more than obvious she was no longer in her homeland._

_Rumplestiltskin tapped his fingers on a nearby table, obviously waiting for something. It took her a few moments to realize what it was, as she was accustom to people knowing her name regardless of where she went. “My name is Pari, wife of...” she began to say when he waved a hand to silence her._

_“I know that already,” he interrupted. He then proceeded to tell her all about her family, how he knew the name of her husband who happened to be the Shah of her kingdom. They had been blessed with four children: three sons and a daughter, and that her daughter had passed away not long ago. He then began to describe another recent event, but it was there he made a mistake: Cyrus was not dead, as the man had stated._

_Pari smirked, so he could see all as the stories said. He obviously was very satisfied with everything he’d relayed to her, but sadly he had one small fact wrong. “Well, I guess there is little else for me to tell you,” she said, as he began walking to the large staircase slowly, making it obvious he wanted her to follow him. “But you’re wrong on one thing.”_

_That stopped him dead in his tracks. “I’m never wrong,” he snapped as he turned to look at her._

_“Well then, let this be known as the first time. Cyrus is not dead, his mortal life is ended but he is not dead. He was turned into a genie,” she told him._

_“Come again?” Rumpel blurted out. That was different, he’d never heard of people being turned into genies. He didn’t even know there was a spell for that, if he had been aware of that fact there were a few people he’d love to stuff in a bottle for all time. And then bury said bottle about ten feet below a rock for good measure._

_“I think you heard me,” she answered. The few people she’d spoken with in this land whist searching for the Dark One made it clear he was not one to be messed with, but she was still a royal and wasn’t going to explain herself twice. She knew he’d heard exactly what she’d said._

_Rumpel sneered slightly, why did royalty have to be such a bother? But he did actually like her; she wasn’t going to take anything from those who got in the way of what she wanted and that was something he respected. He could sense a sadness in her, he’d felt it the moment she’d started towards his sprawling home, but hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. This wasn’t the sadness that accompanied the death of a child, this was different. Now he understood it, and the shred of humanity he still had in his dark heart wanted to help her._

_His son was lost to him, he understood her pain. The difference was he had no idea where his was, or what trials he was facing. Was Bae safe? Had he found someone to care for him in the way he felt his own father did not? He could at least live with the denial and comfort that Bae had happened upon a family that welcomed him with open arms whilst he worked on a spell that would take him to that land without magic._

_Pari on the other hand may not know where her son is, but she knew what life he was facing. A life of servitude would be a hard adjustment for someone accustom to being served upon. Oddly, he could tell she wasn’t trying to save him, she wanted to live long enough to find him again. But he knew, he could see that one day she would find him, and she was the one who would free him._

_“You know what? I like you, so this I’ll do free of charge. You want to live to find your son again, to be there for him when he is free of his prison and I can teach you the magic you need for that,” he told her, smiling._

_Pari looked at him skeptically, nothing with Rumplestiltskin came free. “I find this hard to believe, everyone in this land swears you do nothing without a price,” she said, her voice betraying her distrust at his words._

_He laughed. “Ah, see, you can’t believe all these tales from the farmers with pitch forks out there. For them, there is a price. They annoy me, but you dearie, I like you. I understand what you long for, and so I’ll give you all the knowledge and everything you’ll need to be there for Cyrus when he needs you, and he will.”_

_With that said he started up the stairs at a quick pace, which Pari had to run to catch up with him. He certainly was an infuriating man, but she’d do almost anything to see her oldest child again. She regretted leaving her other sons, it had been a hard decision to make but she had to do this. “How do you know any of this? You could be giving me false hope.”_

_At the top of the stairs he turned and instead of that strange, mocking smile, a serious look came over his face. “Evidently you are unaware I can see the future dearie. Only bits and pieces, they’re hard to put together and impossible to interpret for the most part. But I have seen you with your son, and in that moment the golden shackles upon his wrists loosen and fall away, accompanied with a strange cracking sound. You will be the one to free him, I do not know when and I do not know how, but it is you.”_

_Pari was about to say something, when a giggle escaped his lips and he spun on his heels to continue walking to the room he kept many of the spell books in. “Now then dearie, let’s have some fun!”_

**********

The memory of his words, that she would be the one to free her son of a life of servitude that was enough to keep her going. There were days she grew weary of living, she’d been alive for so long but she knew there was a reason for her to keep going. If she gave up on life she would be giving up on Cyrus.

Without her he would remain a genie for eternity. She had no idea why, as Rumplestiltskin had never elaborated but he had insisted many times that she was the only one who would free him, and he was adamant there was no one else who could.

She took another sip of her tea and waited for her audience to arrive, thinking over the man’s words again. He seemed to talk in riddles at times, but she trusted he knew what he was talking about.

He was the one who could see into the future after all.

**********

Will was annoyed; they’d walked all that way to find the White Rabbit was not in. They had to get out of Wonderland and the sooner the better. How many relatives did these rabbits have anyway, and why would he be out visiting them at night? Obviously the rabbit wasn’t against seeing if anyone wanted to turn him into a late night snack, since traveling at night wasn’t always the best of plans.

The irony of that thought hit him as he saw the large rock they were heading towards come into view. He didn’t worry too much about traveling with Alice at night; she could hold her own and that sword of her’s would definitely put anyone in their place who thought they wanted to mess with her. She was a woman on a mission, and he pitied anyone who thought they could best her.

“You say I think too loud,” Alice quipped, looking over her shoulder to see if Will was still behind her. If she had to guess, she would say it was closing in on midnight and she was beyond happy they were a few minutes from home. All she wanted to do was sleep, once they figured out how exactly they’d arrange where everyone was going to sleep. She rather hoped Anastasia could use some magic to create a few more beds, or something for sleeping.

“I just can’t believe that bloody rabbit wasn’t home is all,” Will muttered, kicking a rock out of his way.

Alice shook her head. “Well, he does have a life outside of digging holes to send people all over. Mrs. Rabbit promised he’d come by dinner time tomorrow, and no later. We’ve nothing to worry about; soon we’ll be safely away from here.”

“If you insist. I’d feel better if we were getting out of this bloody realm tonight, always feels like something is going to go wrong here no matter how well you plan ahead for anything,” he said just as Alice vanished. He stopped and shook his head for a second. “I’m never going to get used to that.”

Cyrus did just as he said he would, stopped talking the second he heard Alice and Will approaching. He’d told Anastasia his entire story, for the most part. He’d left out a few things that were of no importance and of course there was no point talking about the many people he’d belonged to over the many lifetimes since he’d become a genie, but now she knew a good deal about him.

He did hope she’d still explain her theory on his compass, whether Alice and Will were there or not. It made no difference to him who heard about that, there was no way to discern anything of his past from that item.

Anastasia smiled when she saw Alice, and it brightened slightly when Will entered a second or two later. She knew he still held no love for her, and he may never be able to forgive her for everything she’d done, but it didn’t mean her heart didn’t gladden to see him. She was slowly beginning to realize everything she’d done was wrong, and in the end she would have been hurting everyone. Herself included, as there really was no way to go back and relive the past without risking the chance of making the same mistakes.

“The rabbit will be here at some point tomorrow, so we just have to stay inside and wait,” Alice explained as she sat down on the bed beside Cyrus, wrapping an arm around him and resting her head on his shoulder. “Which, in retrospect, is a good thing as we have to decide where we’re going.”

A smile graced Cyrus’ face; evidently Alice had forgiven him for what he’d done. He could still sense her anger, but it was not quite as strong as before. He could feel her worry that the rabbit may not arrive soon enough to escape before Jafar arrived to reclaim what he thought was his. It was a terrifying thought, but there was no point in worrying about what could be until it came to pass.

“I guess that gives us enough time to figure out where we all need to go, and who gets first dibs on where the rabbit digs his hole to,” Will stated, sitting once more on the floor. He would have preferred to sit on the bed, it would be far more comfortable, but he still refused to be too near Anastasia.

Cyrus may have forgiven her, and even Alice seemed to have given the woman the benefit of the doubt, but there was no chance he was following suit. He knew her, and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Alice ‘I told you so’ when the former Red Queen turned on them, handing Cyrus and his bottle back over to Jafar, but he knew it was coming.

“I think we can all settle on somewhere safe together,” Alice said, smiling brightly. It was getting late and although she’d much prefer to go to sleep it likely would be wise to give some discussion on where they would go.

Anastasia was about to speak when Will cut in. “Oh no, I’ll go anywhere you want Alice, along with your genie, but I’m not realm skipping with her. I’d rather take my chances with Jafar.”

“I think you are highly overestimating your pain tolerance,” Cyrus muttered, wondering why anyone would rather risk being captured by the sorcerer than travel with the former Red Queen. When it came to the lesser of the two evils, she most certainly won out. He knew Will still didn’t trust her, but he would hope the man could set that aside for a few moments until they were all safe.

Will shrugged. “You’re still alive, now aren’t you?”

“Because he needed me. Just because he kept me alive does not mean I was comfortable,” he explained, a pensive expression washing over his face.

Anastasia winced; she knew exactly what he meant. When Jafar had tasked her with capturing the genie needed she’d inquired how exactly he was planning on keeping him contained without his bottle. It wasn’t often you’d hear of a genie roaming around freely, at least to her knowledge. He had only told her that silver would keep him contained after she’d badgered him for a few days.

She’d found that odd, but said nothing more. She came from the Enchanted Forest and genies were not something she’d heard of there, this was more Jafar’s domain so if he said that was how to keep him contained, she’d believe his words.

It still struck her as very strange, until the day she’d realized why he couldn’t get past the silver. For all the sorcerer’s intelligence, she did marvel that the floor of the cage wasn’t silver as well, and when she’d discovered Cyrus had escaped she actually wasn’t overly surprised. She had noticed a bit of spirit in his dark eyes at times, and she fancied he’d give it his best to get away, once he began to feel desperate enough.

Alice jumped in before anyone else could speak. “Why don’t we sleep on this? It is getting late, and I think we all need a clear head before we decide on anything. The rabbit likely won’t show up until sometime in the afternoon, he is always late remember,” she suggested, causing both Will and Anastasia to chuckle a bit at the last part.

If there was one thing they could count on, the White Rabbit would be late no matter his intentions of being on time.

**********

_“Are you here to make me feel guilty for what I did to Faarih a few days ago?” Cyrus inquired as Raheem walked into his room._

_Cyrus was getting tired of everyone. He knew if anyone was speaking to him it was either about his impending marriage, or about his little accident with Faarih. The way everyone spoke they made it sound as if he’d nearly run his younger brother through with his sword, it was a flesh wound and nothing more. He was glad he’d not gotten to the point of drawing his second sword he always had on him, as he knew in his distracted state he could have caused serious injury to his brother._

_Raheem shook his head, he wasn’t here over that. He knew Cyrus was still getting lectures from their father due to that little transgression and his ability to rule was in question yet again. “Maybe in part, but have you not considered it is time for you to lay to rest your resentment over your station in life and move forward?”_

_Cyrus put down the book he’d been reading, and looked at his brother oddly. That was one of the strangest statements he’d heard from Raheem. “Excuse me?”_

_Raheem walked over to where his brother was sitting, and perched himself in a chair across from him. He glanced around the room, feeling a slight pang of jealousy wash over him. They all were, as the servant children would say, spoiled due to their position, but for some reason Cyrus’ room was always a touch nicer than either his or Faarih. Of course his recent birthday didn’t help; he’d been given many extravagant gifts from other nobles as well as the sultan of the princess he was to marry._

_And as always, the gifts meant very little to Cyrus. He thanked everyone dutifully, as he should, but it was more than obvious the book of stories from Princess Jasmine and the pendant from Nadira were his favourite gifts. Cyrus had always had a fondness for tales from other lands and he adored Nadira so anything from their sister he would value. The rest of the gifts just seemed to be of little use to him, and it always bothered Raheem a little that Cyrus didn’t seem to care that he was the one who would one day hold so much power, and he had no desire for it._

_“Everyone is whispering about you,” he stated, to which Cyrus laughed._

_“They’ve been whispering about me for years brother, this is not news. I am well aware the court feels I would be a poor ruler as I have no desire to follow in our father’s footsteps with his style of ruling the kingdom, as well as all the traditions and notions that come with the position,” he stated, wondering where Raheem was going with all this. This was not something unknown to him, so it made little sense his brother had made a point of coming to inform him there were whispers around the court._

_Raheem bit back a growl of annoyance. “No Cyrus, you need to stop letting your emotions rule you. You are the crown prince, and you shall be the Shah one day. It is your lot to have your wife chosen for you, and if you do not find love with her you are more than capable to find it with another so long as Jasmine produces an heir.”_

_The amusement faded from Cyrus’ face at those words. He was tired of hearing all this, and it aggravated him his brother was carrying on over it as well. Their father had brought it up earlier in the day, and Cyrus had simply nodded just to end the conversation. Every so often he realized he had to just agree with their father and let things go. If he’d stated that was one tradition that would die with him, he likely would have received yet another lecture, and Cyrus was convinced he’d had enough of those to last him for a year or more._

_“As you seem so fond of that tradition, keep it for yourself Raheem. It is one that shall die with our father, so far as I am concerned,” he snapped, anger flashing in his eyes. Why everyone had to question how he would rule and live his personal life was beyond him, their father was in good health and so far as he knew, no one was plotting his demise. He was in no hurry to rule the kingdom, and if he could find a way to grant his father eternal life he would gladly do so just to avoid it. Not to mention some of the more personal practices of a Shah, those were getting on his last nerve. If he wanted to forego them, that was his choice._

_“That King should never have brought us that book. You and Nadira both have been poisoned by foolish notions, why do you rebel against everything that every ruler before you has done?” Raheem demanded, glancing at the book his brother had been reading. It was stories from Agrabah, and he hoped they weren’t as foolish as the tales from that far off Enchanted Forest._

_“Would you care to know what is wrong with you, Raheem?” Cyrus demanded in a voice tinted with anger, not waiting for an answer. “You see everyone as below you. Despite our father and mother teaching us that everyone deserves respect, you see the servants as you would dirt. And at times you treat them as such, do not argue with me either. I have seen you mocking them when you assume no one is looking. Even the other nobles, as they are not royal born you feel they are not worth your time unless they are giving you accolades for something you’ve done. Ruling would serve you ill, as you have no idea how.”_

_Raheem took a few moments to gather his thoughts at that statement. Why shouldn’t he see the servants, and even the nobles born below him, as less than important? What was important was his family as they were the ones with all the power in the kingdom. The only people who were of the same status as himself were the royals who would come and visit from other kingdoms, he was always good and kind to them._

_“And what are you going to do? Bow to everyone? You seem to believe every silly notion put in your head from rulers that visit from other kingdoms whose traditions are different than our’s. What difference does it make to you that a king from a far off country balked at the concept of mistresses when our father was married? Our mother takes it in stride,” Raheem argued._

_Cyrus stood and walked away from his brother at that, to avoid lashing out at him with a slap or worse. “You view women as below you as well, do you?”_

_“What is with these questions? Of course, they are to produce heirs, and for our pleasure,” Raheem insisted, feeling frustrated with the way Cyrus was acting. He was actually starting to wonder if that time he’d pitched his oldest brother down a flight of stairs hadn’t addled his brain._

_“And that is your folly, you believe everyone, no matter their gender or station in life, below you. They are servants and slaves to your whims and desires, and that is not how it works,” Cyrus explained, leaning back against a nearby wall and closing his eyes. He was really getting tired of everyone telling him how he should act, he knew how he would rule when his time came and so far as he was concerned it was time for a change._

_The way he perceived it, most of the concern went to the nobles and what they wanted, very little of his father’s time went to the commoners. On holidays and celebrations there was always something for the people who lived within the lower echelons of society, but Cyrus felt more could be done. He knew he wouldn’t be able to change their lives drastically, but he would try to help if he could._

_Raheem stood and walked over to him, his every movement slightly jerky with his built up anger at what he perceived as an insult. “Oh, and you believe it is the other way around? We who were born to want for nothing are servants to those who want for everything?”_

_Cyrus opened his eyes and smiled sadly, Raheem was still in the brash part of adolescence and had a lot of growing up to do yet. He wondered at times what it would take to make him understand, but at least there was no fear of him becoming Shah one day. So long as he and Jasmine had a son, the burden would never fall to him. “We serve the people, we are here to listen to their needs and worries and try to find a solution. We cannot cure all their pains and worries, but we must try. Our servants are here to wait upon us, but in turn we should give them a good life as well, and the other nobles we should treat with respect. Despite what you believe, we are here to serve the people.”_

_“Where did you get these foolish notions? They certainly did not come from our father, nor any of the books he set out for you to read or of the lessons we were taught growing up. You speak foolishly,” Raheem snapped._

_Cyrus moved away from his brother and headed out of the room. “This conversation is ended, and I wish for you not to bring it up again with me. If you must, then complain to our father. He’d be more than happy to give me yet another lecture, I fear he has a weekly quota and I would hate to deny him the pleasure of meeting it.”_

_And with that said, Raheem found himself standing alone in his brother’s room with nothing but his aggravation to keep him company._

**********

“This Cyrus did have strange ideals for a royal,” Edwin commented as he poured himself another cup of tea.

Pari grinned. “He did, but he had excellent ideas. He had read many books, and spoken with royals from visiting kingdoms whenever there were any around. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to change the way things worked, his youngest brother was actually of the same mind as well, but did not voice his opinions so frequently. Raheem was a quiet, studious boy who was very set on traditions. He was always a bit envious that Cyrus would become Shah one day instead of him, and he was determined at times to show his older brother the error of his ways. Which wasn’t always wise, as Cyrus did have a bit of a temper that he had a hard time keeping in check when provoked. He did tend to act first and think later at times.”

Edwin chuckled slightly at the way Pari spoke of the two princes. “The way you talk about them, you make them seem as if they were real people that you knew.”

Millie’s eyes went wide at that comment, and she looked at Pari with a hopeful expression. She didn’t speak, as she had a mouthful of some sort of cake. It was a treat Sarah was loathed to let her have, but as they’d started meeting for tea every day Millie was pleased to discover she could have a little piece of some sweet or other with her tea, a fact she delighted in greatly.

“The story is one I spent a long time with, so at times it feels as if I knew these princes quite intimately,” she explained, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. Talking about her children as if they were nothing but characters in an old story was hard, it did give her some joy to finally tell their story but at the same time she wanted to say they were real people. At one time, they had lived and one still did.

But she knew saying that would likely get her sent off to the asylum as well, and she’d rather avoid that. Maybe one day she’d be able to tell someone the story was true, but she knew that wouldn’t happen until she found Cyrus again, and she had no idea when that day would come.

With a smile she asked if they thought there was time for a little more of the story, to which Millie eagerly bobbed her head up and down, whilst Edwin laughingly agreed. There was always time for more stories.

**********

Will tossed and turned, it was hard to sleep on the floor. It was wonderful he had some pillows and the likes, but it wasn’t close to what he’d label comfortable. He’d found that impossible to get used to in that bottle as well, how Cyrus could have spent any length of time in there was beyond him. He’d heard a body could get used to anything, even hanging, but a proper bed was a necessity in life.

He sat up and looked around the room. Cyrus was a few feet away from him, somehow asleep with only some pillows between him and the ground. Both Anastasia and Alice were soundly sleeping on the bed. He thought there was room for one more on there, but they’d both refused to share, and Cyrus had said it was improper for him to be sleeping in the same bed as two young women, to which Will had almost mentioned Anastasia had no issues with that back in the Enchanted Forest. And of course he wondered how Alice and Cyrus’ sleeping arrangements had worked for all those years, but something told him it didn’t quite run along the lines of him and Anastasia in a time passed.

But then he could see that Alice and Cyrus had a type of love that was different than the one he’d once shared with the former Red Queen. He’d seen love in its many forms over his life thus far. Theirs’ was deep and unconditional, it didn’t require the physical or any proof. He could recognize that as he’d seen the looks Alice and her genie shared as the same as a couple back in Storybrooke, before he’d been drug on an adventure he didn’t want to be part of.

He could remember how his mother always talked about love, despite the fact her husband had left her with a child barely out of his toddler years. He admired her for that alone, most would turn bitter if they’d been abandoned but she had an unfailing belief in that particular emotion.

Although as he grew older he began to also see it as her downfall, when his father did return she refused to see what was wrong with the relationship. The man treated her horribly, every word out of his mouth was an insult and yet she refused to let go of her love for him. Will had tried to make her realize she was worth so much more, and deserved someone better than the man she’d married but she just couldn’t see it. He began to realize that when she looked at her husband she saw the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago, not the man he was now. In the end, it gave him a very disparaging outlook on love.

As he grew from childhood into a young adult he had become very cynical on the concept of love. It seemed to bring nothing but heartache and pain, why put yourself through that? It wasn’t making his mother happy, despite her forced smiles and cheery disposition he could tell she was dying inside. There was no way he’d ever allow that to happen him, he would rather go through life alone than open himself up to someone who could hurt him like his father hurt his mother. Maybe at one time he was a good person worthy of her love, but he’d changed and no longer deserved it.

And then one day he’d met a girl with gleaming blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a radiant smile in a pink dress. She changed everything for him, his vow to never open up to anyone ended the moment she looked his way and flashed her smile for only him. It woke something in him, a desire and needing to be with someone, to share his days, his life and everything else he had to offer with her.

Anastasia was the only girl for him, he knew that. He would have done anything for her, if she’d wanted the moon he’d have found a way to get it just to see her happy. There was nothing in the world but her, and her smile. He treated her like the lady he knew she was, he was always conscious of what she wanted and when their relationship moved to the next level he’d been certain it was what she desired as well; he never would have dreamed of pushing her into something she did not want.

And then she’d betrayed him. After that, and having his heart removed, he didn’t see the point to even considering love when it came to relations with women. If a woman was willing, he was more than ready. Why bother adding love into the mix? All it did was complicate things.

From the way Alice talked about Cyrus, and the few times he’d seen them together, he noticed their love was different from what he had once shared with Anastasia. And in a way, he envied them. It was the strangest sort of love he’d ever observed in his life; a part of him longed to experience something even slightly close to it. He’d give anything to experience any sort of love again, be it that strange, deep love Alice and Cyrus had for one another, or that passionate love he’d had with Anastasia.

With that thought going through his mind he quickly stood up and walked out into the night. 

He hated being awake at night, all it ever did was cause him to think. Nothing good ever came of thinking, and he’d had enough of it in that bloody bottle. He’d actually hit a point he was trying to think of a way to trick someone into trading places with him. If he would have gone through with it was another story, maybe not right off but eventually he knew he’d have given into the desire to convince some unsuspecting soul to trade places with him. So in a way it was fortunate it was Cyrus who summoned him.

Will kicked at a rock on the ground, grumbling in frustration. This was such a mess, he’d only come to help find the genie, not have all this happen. He’d been reluctant at first based solely on the fact Anastasia was in Wonderland, and of course all the people who would love to have his head on a silver platter. He could have refused, a part of him wished he had refused but then Alice didn’t deserve to spend her life broken over a lost love like he had.

Anastasia had made her choice all those years ago, and he’d made his. It wasn’t the same mind; he hadn’t watched her fall to her death as Alice had with Cyrus. In a way he mused he had watched her die, when she had walked out on the balcony the girl he’d loved had been slowly fading into the queen she’d become.

There was a small part of him, exceptionally small, that wanted to ask her why she’d betrayed him. It was a simple plan: steal the crown jewels and return to the Enchanted Forest. She’d never struck him as the type to be swayed by glittering trinkets and social status, but maybe he’d been fooled.

He sighed as he looked up at the clear, starlit night sky of Wonderland. Maybe he hadn’t known her at all; it was possible she was just like her mother. The woman had always been a conniving shrew who was obsessed with her daughters marrying nobles. He’d always suspected she had a thing against men as well, the story behind that he’d never discovered and he didn’t care either. The woman was no one now, just a fading memory of a past long gone.

“It is dangerous to be out at night,” a voice softly said next to him, causing him to jump and lash out slightly in his surprise.

He felt his fist connect with someone full in the chest, and turned to look towards the origin of the voice to find Cyrus standing near him. “Oye, are you trying to get yourself killed? I could have hurt you!”

Cyrus grinned slightly. “Not without silver, you can inflict as much pain on me as you like but the only thing that threatens my life is silver.”

Will shrugged, mentally reminding himself if they all survived this ordeal not to buy Alice and Cyrus anything silver as a wedding gift. That was if they even had a wedding, he had no idea if Alice ever planned to return to England as well as her family, and he was fairly certain Cyrus would have none to speak of now. “Seeing as you’re up I have a question for you.”

The genie tried not to groan, what was with all the questions? The only one not pestering him, thus far, was Alice. Although he supposed she was did not feel the need to know more about his past, and after the revelation he had once been human she felt it best not to press it as he was very reluctant to say much.

Despite everything Anastasia had done, he didn’t mind talking to her of times long gone by. She was a royal, even if it was by marriage, so in a way it felt she was on the same level, even if he no longer thought of himself as royalty after so long serving others. With Alice, he feared she would begin to look at him differently; he saw her at times glancing at him with a wistful look, wondering if he could be mortal again and a touch of sadness would enter her blue eyes. If she knew what he had been he worried it would change things, either there would be nothing but pity in her eyes or she’d start to treat him differently. He was no longer a prince, but he simply could not shake the worry it would change how Alice felt about him, or saw him.

“What do you wish to know?” he inquired, a slightly defeated tone in his voice. He was tired of questions, why he couldn’t leave the past buried was beyond him. Reliving it with Anastasia had been draining; he didn’t want to go through it again with yet someone else. But he owed the Knave after wishing him back his heart.

Will almost felt guilty, Cyrus sounded less than enthusiastic about the prospect of more questions, but he wanted answers. He’d already drawn his own conclusions, but it would be nice to have them confirmed. “In your bottle there is a book of sketches, who are they?”

“My family,” Cyrus simply stated, hoping it would be dropped after that. He had no desire to name them again, saying their names pained him as he knew he’d never see any of them again. Their memory would always live with him, but he was loathed to ever say their names.

Will thought about pressing for more, but thought better of it. He was still quite angry at Cyrus for wishing him back his heart, but in a way he could understand the heartache the genie was feeling. He had tried to avoid it for as long as he could, and maybe it had been a bit foolish to not put his heart back after all Alice had gone through to retrieve it but that was water under the bridge now. He unfortunately had to deal with the emotions he’d been trying to avoid, like it or not.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t longing to ask more questions, but it was late and a small part of him felt it wouldn’t be wise. Once they were out of Wonderland he could pester Cyrus for everything he wanted to know.

“I suppose we should get back in there before one of them wakes up. Namely Alice, were she to wake up and find you gone I’m pretty sure she’d be up in arms thinking you had gone missing again,” Will joked, nodding towards where he was certain the door was. He really wasn’t going to get accustom to all these magical creations, he hadn’t spent much time around it growing up.

A sudden gasp from behind stopped him in his tracks, and he turned to find Cyrus standing perfectly still, his eyes wide. He thought the genie had possibly lost it, as he could see nothing, until he followed his gaze towards the ground.

That was something new; in all his time in Wonderland he couldn’t recall ever seeing a snake before. Granted he’d never been paying close attention as the reptiles didn’t bother him all that much, unless they were the type that could kill him with a nasty little bite, but he could tell that one was of no consequence. He’d seen them numerous times back in Storybrooke, he’d observed enough little girls run screaming from them when they moved through the gardens in the park. That had always been cause for laughter to him, seeing as the snake was likely more afraid of them then they were of it.

He quirked an eyebrow as he looked at Cyrus again, realizing the genie was terrified of the creature slithering in the grass before him. “You have got to be kidding me, you’re afraid of snakes? You, the one who decided it a brilliant idea to jump a few thousand feet down off a floating island. This is just far too much,” he laughed, walking over and grabbing the snake just as it made its way onto Cyrus’ boots, causing the genie to start breathing in short little gasps.

Cyrus watched him, completely dumbstruck Will would even touch the thing. It didn’t seem to matter how long he lived, snakes still terrified him. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d heard one outside his bottle when he was between masters and the irrational fear it could somehow get inside. He knew it couldn’t, but he was so tiny when trapped in his bottle he had a terror that it would get him. A few masters had caught on to his fear as well, thankfully they had been the kind ones, and oddly that fear had made him seem more human to them. Those were the few times a master held off making their wishes, and actually gave him a slight reprieve from being nothing more than a possession and treated him more like a person.

He watched as Will tossed the reptile as far as he could, a slightly amused twinkle in his blue eyes as the Knave joked if the snake were adorned in any silver that would likely render him catatonic. He would have been insulted if it weren’t for one realization dawning on him: Jafar was close at hand. The sorcerer had a strange affection for the creatures and he had likely caught on to his fear.

They had to get out of Wonderland, and the sooner the better but Cyrus was beginning to feel his worry that he wouldn’t be leaving with them was becoming more a reality with each passing minute. He pushed those thoughts aside as he followed Will back inside, trying to pull himself together after what had just happened.

There was nowhere to truly hide, but Jafar was a master of the dark arts. He had cloaked himself in shadows to observe how Cyrus would react to the snake; just a harmless little garter snake had sent the genie into a slight panic attack. A grin enveloped his face as he began to entertain the thought of what sort of reaction a more venomous snake could inflict upon Cyrus.

He had no intention of allowing one to bite the genie, now or even when he finally had him back in his silver cage, but he wasn’t against using them to keep his prisoner in line. It was fortunate that Cyrus had another weakness above his foolish notions about love and the desire to protect those he cared deeply for.

As the Knave and genie disappeared by the large rock Jafar stepped out of the darkness he was concealed in. It would be so easy to follow them, to kill that miserable little queen, the man she loved and Alice as well, all right in front of Cyrus to show him that there was no hope left for him. Anything to crush whatever spirit the genie had left, and make him more compliant.

It would be too easy, but then Jafar did enjoy toying with his victims at times. And there was no joy in killing when the victims were asleep, as he assumed the Red Queen and Alice likely were. No, he would wait until they thought they were about to make their escape from Wonderland. Kill them or injure them, it didn’t matter which, so long as he had Cyrus in his possession by the end of the altercation.

That still left the question of the last wish and the bottle, if they somehow escaped him, but he’d worry about that after he had the genie again in his grasp. He’d waited this long to accomplish his goal, once he made it clear to Cyrus there was no escape or hope for him; he would finish off Alice and obtain the bottle.

With a wave of his hand the snake disappeared. This time he would not fail, he was certain of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to get a little cameo appearance in there, to explain how Pari is still alive. I imagine it could be argued Rumpel wouldn't do a favour for free to anyone, but in this case I could see it. He would understand the desire to find a lost child, no matter what.
> 
> And of course it turns out Cyrus' character in canon was _very_ different as a mortal then how I am portraying him here, but too late to go back and rewrite it now.
> 
> But I will say, despite my original reservations about what they're doing, I'm kind of anticipating seeing it. Why? If done right, it really will be one interesting redemption. It will certainly layer him more than other characters, if they do it right (live in hope, die in despair). But either way, I'm not about to rewrite everything to suit the canon character back story we're about to get. The beauty of fanfiction I guess. Hope that makes sense, I was up most of the night.
> 
> Although, I still wish they'd gone with something more original. I just hope they do it right, because they have such a wonderful opportunity with it, you know, before they push him aside again. Still find it pathetic he's a main character and he's underused to a sad degree.


	5. Many Types of Leaving.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the threat of Jafar looming, discussions arise on where to go whenever the White Rabbit decides to grace them with his presence. Alice talks to Will about their travel arrangement while Cyrus realizes Anastasia might have a wish in mind.
> 
> Pari's tale continues, and Edwin starts to wonder if this really is a tale for Millie to be hearing as she assumes it will end with a _happily ever after_ and he has his doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

_Jasmyn looked up when she heard someone enter the room, not overly surprised to see Cyrus walking towards her. They were spending a lot of time together, as their parents were attempting see if this marriage could be more than just an alliance; there was a slight hope the two of them could develop affection for one another. It was almost laughable to both of them, as it was more than obvious their fathers both saw them as nothing more than bits of property to be traded to strengthen their kingdom’s ties._

_She wasn’t sure if that would happen for Cyrus, but for herself she knew she could never see him as anything more than a good friend. In the past two weeks since her arrival she’d come to enjoy his company and talking with him, but she didn’t feel the kind of adoration towards him she felt for Aladdin back home in Agrabah. Cyrus was a good man, be it a touch quick to temper at times, but he wasn’t her true love and she knew that._

_“Good evening, your highness,” she said as Cyrus walked towards her, a smile lighting up her face. It was one of the first times she’d seen him without a chaperone. They really didn’t need one, as neither was interested in much other than talking about their day or relating stories of their childhood. Whenever he spoke of growing up with his brothers she couldn’t help but marvel they were all still alive and with everything intact, including their wits._

_She was an only child, her mother had passed in giving birth to a second child and sadly the child had died not long after she had. It was an event that had saddened her father for many years, but he had tried his best to push it aside for the sake of his daughter. She knew he had grieved for his wife for many years, but he never allowed it to taint any of his time with her. She was aware he mourned the child as well, since it had been a boy, as it would have made things simpler. It was not long after that she began to hear about a Prince Cyrus her father was arranging for her to marry when they were both of age._

_“Please, call me Cyrus,” he told her as he sat down next to her, smiling warmly._

_She couldn’t help but return his smile; he did have that affect on everyone he met. If only she hadn’t met Aladdin, maybe she would have fallen in love with the man she was supposed to marry. But the past could not be changed, and all she hoped for in this marriage was a good friend even though she knew there were certain expectations of them both and she felt she’d be betraying the one who held her heart in a way._

_She searched her mind for something to talk about, not that they always required conversation to fill the time. They could also sit and just enjoy silence in each other’s company, it didn’t matter to them._

_The sight of Raheem off in the distance walking at a fast pace did bring them into some conversation though. “Your brother is in a bit of a hurry,” she observed, trying not to laugh as Cyrus rolled his eyes._

_“He has everyone convinced he’s the quiet one, but in truth Raheem enjoys causing trouble more than Faarih. Although in a more subtle way,” he commented, a touch of annoyance in his tone._

_Jasmyn raised a slender eyebrow questioningly, she could tell the brothers did have a habit of getting on each others’ last nerve but Raheem seemed harmless enough. “He does seem the quiet type.”_

_Cyrus nodded, that was Raheem. He was one who enjoyed his quiet time and being with books over people, but he’d noticed his brother had a touch of a mean streak in him. Although at times he was certain it was more jealousy, and that was why he spent far more time than was healthy telling their father tales of any little thing Cyrus did that might be questionable._

_He never bothered to inform Raheem he wasn’t acting all that much of a prince himself, there was little point in starting a fight with him. They all could be good at causing trouble for each other, but he did find his second brother to be the worst for it. Faarih meant it all in his idea of good fun, but Raheem was normally being a little cruel._

_Jasmyn listened quietly as Cyrus related some of his brother’s antics, to anyone else it might sound like the oldest prince was complaining but she realized he was just simply venting as being the oldest, or even the only child could be hard. She could remember days in her childhood watching children at play outside of the palace gates and wishing she could be one of them. Their lives seemed so carefree no matter if they were an only child or what birth order they came in, their lives just appeared easier to her._

_Of course after meeting Aladdin she discovered that wasn’t always the case, but she did envy him his freedom to do what he pleased and to go where he wanted. There were days she wished she had that luxury, but then she realized whilst she envied them their freedom they desired the security she had knowing with each new day she had food to eat and all the comforts anyone could ever desire in life._

_The arranged marriage notwithstanding, she really did have more than enough to make life enjoyable, everything but the freedom to do as she pleased and marry who she loved._

_“It is strange, as royalty we want for nothing in the eyes of the people, yet we desire the liberties they have to choose who they wish to marry and to come and go as they please, and they’d trade most anything to have the security we have in knowing we’ll be fed everyday and have somewhere comfortable to live,” she offhanded commented, smiling a bit._

_Cyrus nodded in agreement; it was funny how life worked. “And in both cases, neither realizes that life could always be so much worse. If we could trade places for a day we’d likely discover we don’t particularly care for the insecurity of their day to day life, despite all the freedoms, and they’d soon discover they hate all the strict rules and social obligations that come with privilege.”_

_Jasmyn nodded, she couldn’t argue with that. They both fell into easy conversation about everything and nothing, and became so engrossed in their conversations they didn’t even hear anyone enter the room._

_“Cyrus! What are you doing?” Naseem snapped as he stormed into the room, Jasmyn’s father, Yasir, trailing behind._

_They both looked towards their fathers, confusion clearly written on their young faces. “We were simply talking father, I thought that would please you,” Cyrus said, rather confused by this outburst._

_For a moment he wondered how his father knew he was with Jasmyn, until he remembered Raheem. If he weren’t already in hot water for everything that had recently occurred with Faarih he’d teach his other brother a lesson as well for meddling in his affairs. But with his luck that would just land him in even more trouble with their father and he truly was growing weary of all the lectures he was receiving of late._

_If it wasn’t for some slips with his brothers, it was how he acted in court or his forgetfulness with some of the political lessons he’d had of late. Then of course there was everything with Nava, he wasn’t exactly certain why that was such a problem, he’d let her go. Maybe she’d told some friends or her family of some of the things he’d confided in her. He really could trust no one it would appear, with the exception of Nadira._

_Before Naseem could speak, Yasir jumped in. “You know you are not to be with Cyrus without a chaperone my dear. It isn’t proper for a girl your age,” he scolded, and although it was obvious he was angry his tone still remained with an edge of gentleness in it._

_“Are you trying to create a scandal?” Naseem demanded, leveling his heir was a stern look._

_Cyrus stood up and looked his father in the eyes, he was growing rather tired of constantly being harassed over every little thing he did. He wasn’t going to get out of this without a lecture in some form or another, so no harm in letting his temper loose. “No more than usual. I seem to be rather talented at causing some sort of scene or scandal, were you expecting anything less of me father? Would you like to call some of the courtiers to gather around so you can shame me in front of them once more?” he spat out, his eyes flashing with anger._

_Jasmyn placed a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle, she knew she shouldn’t laugh as Cyrus was provoking his father but it was rather amusing. Naseem was blowing it all out of proportion, but then the man did something none of them were expecting._

_Cyrus was completely shocked when he felt his father’s broad hand connect with the side of his face. He reached up to touch his stinging skin, looking at his father with wide eyes. In truth, he knew better than to talk back, but at times he couldn’t help himself. There were moments he acted first, and thought of the consequences of his actions after the fact. He’d expected to be dragged out of the room, like was customary when he angered his father, and receive yet another lecture on what was proper for a prince and heir to the kingdom._

_This was not what he thought would occur, and he was embarrassed it had happened in front of Jasmyn and her father._

_“As I seem to displease you, father, I shall remove myself from your sight,” he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion._

_Jasmyn watched as Cyrus walked out of the room, appalled at what had just played out before her eyes.. A few minutes later Naseem left as well, in a different direction than his son. She turned to her father and explained nothing had happened between her and her betrothed, to which he simply nodded and chuckled good humouredly._

_“I know that my dear girl, and I’m grieved at what has transpired due to an innocent meeting between you and the prince. But his father is very set in traditions and how things should be. You must keep that in mind here, Naseem expects things to be done a certain way and if either of you step out of line it will only raise his ire,” he explained, squeezing her hands reassuringly in his._

_Jasmyn frowned; she really did not like the prospects of this palace very soon becoming her home. “I will make sure the next time we have another person in the room with us, but father, I don’t really like Naseem all that much.”_

_Yasir grinned at her, be it a touch sorrowful. He had never thought too highly of Naseem, but he’d always supposed his strictness and adherence to rules was more to do with having three sons to keep in line, but he was beginning to wonder. All three princes were good sons to their father, each had their own quirks and failings, but they tried to please him as best they could._

_“I know my dear, but it is a comfort to see Cyrus doesn’t act much like his father.”_

**********

Edwin was starting to wonder about this story; it almost seemed as though it wasn’t going to end with the happily ever after that Millie was anticipating. She expected any story with princes and princesses to end with a white wedding and them riding off in the sunset, madly in love.

He could tell if this Cyrus and Jasmyn did indeed wed, there would be no wedded bliss for them. A comfortable friendship, but nothing more. It seemed a strange tale to tell a child, but he could tell his daughter was highly invested in hearing it and he would not deny her the pleasure.

If only he could figure out why the name of the one prince felt so familiar to him.

**********

Alice slowly awoke when she felt sunlight dancing upon her face. She really didn’t want to wake up just yet; the White Rabbit wouldn’t arrive for quite a few more hours, as he was late for everything. She’d much rather stay asleep, where she didn’t have to worry about where they’d escape to before Jafar caught up with them.

Or how she’d convince Will they were taking Anastasia with them, whether he liked it or not. They were all leaving Wonderland together; no one was being left behind. If he wanted to part ways with them after the fact, she would be grieved to see him go but would not force him to stay with them.

If she were being honest, she didn’t want to stay in the company of the former Red Queen either, once they left Wonderland, but she swore she could possibly do something with Cyrus’ compass. If she could locate the mother of the man she loved, or her final resting place, she would put aside any resentment and distrust she had for Anastasia.

She figured if Cyrus felt she could be trusted, she would believe him.

Alice smiled when she felt warm lips pressed to her forehead, and opened her blue eyes to see Cyrus smiling at her. When she’d fallen asleep Anastasia had been lying on the other side of the bed, she had to admit this was an improvement to wake up to.

“Good morning,” he greeted, smiling warmly at her as he reached over and ran his fingers through her tousled hair.

“Good morning to you as well,” she answered, slowly sitting up on the bed. She glanced around the room, trying to discern where Will and Anastasia could be hiding. There weren’t many places to stay concealed from sight.

She swore Cyrus could read her mind, as he told her they were outside. “They were discussing what we’re going to do next. The conversation was getting rather heated so I requested they carry on their arguing outside so as not to disturb you.”

Alice leaned over and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She didn’t know what she’d ever done to deserve him, but she was glad to finally have him back in her life.

She pulled out of the kiss, smiling brightly. “So, has anyone an idea on where we should go? Will talked about some land with Care Bears, which sounded rather interesting and curious. I’ve never heard of bears that actual care about anything before, it might be a bit of an adventure,” she suggested, noting the poignant expression that flitting through Cyrus’ dark eyes for a moment. “Or not, if you don’t want an adventure. We don’t have to do anything you desire not to, you know that. If you feel a need for a rest and break from adventures, then that is fine. Did you have somewhere you think we should go?”

Cyrus nodded, but he was fairly certain Alice was not going to like it. This wasn’t a sudden inspiration either; he’d given it a lot of thought before he’d proposed to her. It actually was an idea he’d tried to broach with her once before, but had lost his nerve, and he had a feeling she would be against it.

The book he’d read when he was mortal had talked of marriage, and one thing he’d always remembered was asking for the father’s permission to marry their daughter. He loved Alice with all his heart and he wanted to do it all just right, but there was no way to speak to her father about his desire to marry his daughter. He wanted to suggest a trip back to England, but when he asked her about her home she never had happy stories to relate, so he’d let it drop.

This time though, they needed to find somewhere safe, a place they could possibly hide and somewhere Jafar wouldn’t think they’d go. He’d thought of returning to the land he’d come from, but he had no desire to see how it had changed. He knew it wouldn’t be what he remembered, and he feared to see the final resting place for each member of his family. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find them, he could remember clearly where Nadira was laid in eternal slumber, it would stand to reason his parents and two brothers would be close by. Not to mention the empty grave that was to mark where he was supposedly laid to rest.

A small part of him wanted to see the Enchanted Forest, since he’d read about it so much in that book in a life that was long lost to him. He had asked Will about the place, wondering if that was possibly where he’d come from. The Knave had looked at him oddly, stating that he had indeed come from the place he’d read about. He figured the excited gleam in his eyes was what had Will confused, the man didn’t realize the place was merely a story to him and a place he’d longed to see when he had been mortal, but his hopes were dashed when Will explained about a Dark Curse that destroyed the land.

Of course there was this place Alice mentioned, and Will had told him briefly people from the Enchanted Forest lived there, but it didn’t interest him quite as much as the original land did. That only left one place: Alice’s home.

Cyrus knew there were many realms, when he’d become a genie it had come with a lot of knowledge which he had no idea what he needed it for. All realms were magical, at one point, but some lost that magic as time moved forward. The one the Dark Curse took many of the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest to was one, and Alice’s was another. He felt it might be best to seek refuge in a realm that lacked magic, at least for awhile.

Jafar would catch up with them eventually, there was no doubt in that, but for a time to be somewhere that everything was just as it was had a certain appeal, but he knew Alice would be less than enthusiastic.

“You have already decided on where you want to go,” Alice observed, her tone a little flat. She had a good guess where it was, and even though she wasn’t thrilled with the idea she didn’t want to deny him that request.

She didn’t want to see her step mother again, she was an insufferable woman. Who convinces a grieving child, no matter their age, that they are insane and must go to an asylum? Although the doctors there were no better, at least they were indifferent to her, and left her be so long as she kept her mouth shut. Sarah was always finding some reason to pick at her, be it for her stories or just over how she wore her hair.

It was obvious she could never do anything right in that woman’s eyes.

Alice did long to see Millie again, and she was curious as to what happened to her father after that wish to send him home. With the string to every wish, she worried he could have forgotten her, although maybe that would be for the best. He could be happy with his new family, completely forget her and her mother.

No, she didn’t want to go back to England, there was nothing left there for her but she slowly began to realize there could be a new future there with Cyrus. There was no reason she had to seek out her father when they returned; she could find a way with Cyrus in that world. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was more than up to the challenge if he was.

She reached out and took Cyrus’ hands in her, bringing them up to her lips to place a light kiss on his fingers. “If you want to go to England, then we’ll go. You do get a say in all this, I thought you were well aware of that by now,” she said, trying not to laugh as he did that strange habit of his of looking away. “We do have two other people to consult first, but if they want to go to England as well, then we’ll do what you want. Just because you’re a genie again doesn’t mean you don’t get a say in all this.”

“I know that, I just didn’t want to suggest anything that would make you unhappy,” he explained just as she silenced him with another kiss.

If it were possible, she’d much rather just stay hidden away where they were, but she knew Jafar would eventually find them. Not to mention Will and Anastasia might kill each other after being confined in such close quarters for too long. “I’ll be happy wherever I am, so long as I have you at my side,” she assured him as she broke the kiss.

Cyrus couldn’t help but smile brightly at her when she said that. It meant everything to him to hear someone express such a sentiment after the last words he heard from some in his family before he’d been drawn into his bottle. “You do realize Anastasia will have to stay with us, or close at hand, as she is my mistress now,” he said, to which she frowned a bit.

Alice had figured that was a likelihood, not to say she was fond of the prospect of having to associate with the former Red Queen. She appreciated the woman bringing Cyrus back to her, in a small attempt to make up for taking him in the first place but that didn’t mean she wanted to become friends with her. It baffled Alice to an extent that Cyrus had fallen into some sort of friendship with the woman who had helped keep him captive, but unlike Will she didn’t think Anastasia had an ulterior motive in this.

If Cyrus believed in her, then Alice would try as well.

**********

Will watched as Anastasia moved her hand over the compass again, as if she actually knew what she was doing. He mused she likely had an idea, but the thing wasn’t going to point towards anything. If Cyrus had said it quit years ago, then it had quit. He had no idea how magic worked, even after his brief stint at a genie, but it wasn’t like it just needed a few parts replaced to make it work. The magic was broken, or the connection to the genie’s mother was lost.

He knew Cyrus fancied his mother was dead, but didn’t say it aloud. For all his callousness even Will wouldn’t voice his opinion on the matter, he had no idea how many centuries Cyrus had been locked away in that bottle, and even though time moved differently in each realm there was no way it moved slow enough in whatever place he came from for his mother to still be living.

“Having fun are we love?” he asked, kicking at the ground for something to do.

Anastasia’s head snapped up, her concentration broken. She was aware Will figured she was trying to get it to point, but she wasn’t. There was no reason for that; it hadn’t worked for Cyrus the entire time he was in Wonderland so it certainly wouldn’t start now no matter what she did. She’d heard it worked for the Caterpillar, he’d found many things he’d desired using it so evidently the magic imbued within the compass was still there, but the link to his mother was severed by some means that she had yet to discern.

It could be death, as Cyrus assumed, but it could be a separation by realms as well. He had said it stopped long before he’d been wished as far from Jafar as possible. Magic was powerful, but it had its limits. A sad smile ghosted over her lips at that thought; it had its limits until that spell was cast and then anything would be possible.

She glanced up at Will, who was looking up at the sky with a bored expression. What she’d nearly done, all for him. She was slowly realizing it was a mistake; there were other ways to go back and change the past. Not in the literal sense, but to show that she was truly sorry for what she’d done. It wouldn’t change the events that had happened that had brought her to this present time, but if she had used words and the right actions she could have helped bury the past and hopefully bring a different future for herself that might include Will.

“It isn’t broken,” she blurted out, pulling his attention away from whatever birds were flying above. She knew magic was something he had no concept of, other than not to mess with it, but he should know magic doesn’t exactly break. It might weaken over time, depending on the spell, but it doesn’t break.

Will shrugged, walking over to her and looking at the compass again. “Could have fooled me. What the bloody hell are you trying to do with the thing?”

“I’m casting a spell on it to point us to the realm his mother is in. When the rabbit digs his hole it will draw us to the realm she’s in, be her alive or dead. It is the very least I can do to try to make amends for all I did,” she explained, resisting the urge to slap Will when he snorted.

“I think it will take more than that,” he shot back, amazed she thought a happy little family reunion would make everything better for Cyrus. That was if there was someone still alive related to him that wasn’t a distant descendent of the people he once knew.

Anastasia shot him a fiery look, angry at his words. “I’m trying, why can’t you see that? I realize I was wrong and I’m trying to make amends. If you’d stopped your arguing we’d have been out of here weeks ago, if you and Alice both had just taken my warning none of this would have happened.”

Will laughed. “Why should any of us believe you?”

“You don’t have to, but if Cyrus trusts me that should be enough until we get out of Wonderland. After that if you wi...want me out of your life, then I’ll walk away. But until then, we need to put all our differences aside to get out of here before Jafar finds us,” she retorted, catching herself before using a particular word. She had no idea how Alice had managed to omit that from her vocabulary for all those years. It was hard not to say it, and she knew she had to choose her words very carefully so she wouldn’t accidently give Cyrus reason to believe she was going to betray him by using any or all of her wishes.

She swore to him she wouldn’t, and she wanted to keep that promise. She was always good to her word, which one Tweedle had found out in a rather drastic way.

Jafar always enjoyed rather extreme overtures; she didn’t see any harm as her last act as the Red Queen being one he’d appreciate.

**********

_Pari glanced up from her painting when she heard her husband storm into the courtyard. She sighed, thinking back on days gone by, before her oldest and her husband had suddenly developed such a strained relationship. Many nights she’d listen to her husband relate every little thing Cyrus had done wrong that day, most of them trivial and not worth worrying about, but he was so caught up in his line of succession he couldn’t see that his son and heir was trying his best to please his father, but still be his own person._

_“Where is he?” Naseem demanded, glancing around the courtyard to see if the offending party was hiding close at hand._

_Pari didn’t need to ask who it was, only one child could get him this riled up. “I haven’t seen Cyrus since this morning. You may like to know that slap you gave him a few days ago has left a nasty bruise on his face.”_

_“Then when he sees his reflection he’ll remember not to talk back to me,” Naseem snapped, much to Pari’s annoyance. She’d always known her husband had a bit of a temper, but this was getting to be a little much._

_She set her brush aside, motioning over a servant to take her things inside. She was done painting for the moment, and likely the rest of the day. Someone had to locate Cyrus before Naseem did; the man was in such a foul mood it wouldn’t end well for their son. “What did he miss now?” she inquired._

_Pari was only half listening as her husband rattled off something to do with politics and meeting with dignitaries, in truth she didn’t exactly blame Cyrus for wanting to shrug that off. He was only twenty years old, and his father had been pushing these sorts of obligations on him for most of his life. She always felt a pang of sadness when it came to her oldest son; he hardly had a chance to be a child. He may be a man by the court’s standards, but in some ways he was still very much a boy, and she didn’t blame him for wanting to shirk some responsibilities as of late, with the way Naseem was acting and all the marriage preparations over the past few weeks. The day of the wedding was only two weeks away, and she could tell both parties involved were stressed. But Cyrus was starting to act out over more than just the arranged marriage; he was asserting he could be his own person despite his father was trying to shape him to be a copy of himself._

_In the past year she’d noticed he was starting to rebel from everything he was supposed to be, in small ways. He wouldn’t show up for important occasions, he would skip lessons at times and he was very adamantly against his arranged marriage. Whenever he brought that up Naseem simply talked about another practice which Cyrus shot down fast._

_She grinned slightly; glad her long hair was hiding her face from Naseem, that book from the Enchanted Forest really had become a problem. All of her children had read it, but for both Cyrus and Nadira it had become something more. A different way of life she fancied, as they both were going to be married to people they had never met before and may not grow to love in a romantic way. Nadira was unaware, but she had been betrothed to a crown prince in another kingdom shortly after her birth._

_“You go back to your guest husband, I will find Cyrus. It could be he has fallen asleep, there seems to be an illness among the servants and he may have caught it, and is simply attempting to sleep it off,” she said, to which he nodded._

_“I have noticed, Nadira has been sick for quite some time. She hasn’t left her room in days,” he commented, the anger leaving his voice as he talked of their daughter._

_Pari had noticed this as well and it worried her. Both she and Naseem knew there were many among the servants who had died from whatever this disease was, but had not told their children of it. Faarih would be concerned; Raheem wouldn’t be too upset as he was fairly certain he was above them. She knew he truly was good at heart, but he had a hard time showing it. Nadira and Cyrus were similar in personality and there was a chance they’d want to find a way to help, but only end up sick themselves._

_It was worrisome enough that it would appear Nadira had possibly caught the disease herself. She made a note to check on her daughter after she discovered where Cyrus had taken off to._

_**********_

_After a few well worded questions addressed to Raheem, who was more than happy to disclose where his brother could be hiding, Pari found Cyrus. He hadn’t been far from where she’d originally been painting in the courtyard; he always had a talent for being able to hide in plain sight._

_She turned the corner to find both Cyrus and Faarih quietly talking, well hidden by a low wall and some shrubbery that grew nearby. They were both quite engrossed in their conversation, whatever they could be talking about when one was a fourteen year old boy and the other a twenty year old. She smiled sadly, missing the days when they were both small and could spend hours at play, at least until Naseem would come along._

_As if on cue, she heard her husband walk out into the courtyard again. It had only been an hour prior she’d sent him back to his discussions with whoever these dignitaries were, but obviously he was intent on making sure Cyrus was in attendance. She could not understand his need for their son to attend everything; the man was in good health and would live a very long time yet._

_Pari made to stop him, hoping both Cyrus and Faarih wouldn’t hear anything and continue with their lively conversation but sadly Naseem decided to make himself known by shouting the name of the son who had currently gotten on his last nerve, again._

_Faarih and Cyrus jumped slightly, the older of the two looking around quickly to see if he could escape. Even Faarih was trying to find some hidden passage to safety, but there was none to be found. “I’m sorry Cyrus,” he whispered as their father came around the corner, only to find himself being held off by his wife._

_“Not now Pari,” he snarled, as Faarih and Cyrus quickly stood, looking nervously at their father._

_The look on both her son’s faces saddened her, they shouldn’t be fearful of their father, ever. He’d always been quick to temper and all three of their sons had been on the wrong end of it before, but it was only recently he’d lash out physically at times. Granted he had to be exceptionally angry to get that way, but it was no excuse._

_“Naseem, enough of this. They were only talking and lost track of time. I doubt your meetings and talks were hurt by Cyrus’ lack of attendance,” Pari reasoned, wrapping her slender hands around his upper arm._

_He glanced from his sons to his wife, his eyes flashing with anger. “That isn’t the point, he needs to learn to be responsible. What do you think this says to everyone? What sort of statement does it send when the crown prince can’t be bothered to show up?” he demanded, his angry glare moving towards Cyrus._

_“I recall a young man I was married to at a young age who hated going to all these meetings and talks, who wanted nothing more than to hide away from his duties,” Pari reminded him, trying not to laugh at some of the crazy ideas Naseem had back then in a bid to get away from all the obligations his own father had put upon him._

_“That is different, I never went through with any of those ideas. I always showed up,” he argued, coming down a little from his rage when he found his mind wandering to those early days of his marriage._

_Pari smirked. “Only because you were always caught. You were clever, but not that clever. I’m sure the dignitaries will survive without Cyrus in attendance. You need to calm down, there is so much happening with the wedding that you need to focus your time wisely and flying into a rage over something like this does you no good.”_

_She was glad to note Cyrus kept his expression neutral for a change when it came to any mention of his marriage, he’d likely figured since his father was calming down it was more than likely best to keep from getting him riled again._

_Suddenly a servant came running from out of nowhere, or at least to the royal family it appeared that way, a frantic look upon his aged face. Naseem was the first to notice him, and inquired what was wrong._

_The man stopped before them, taking a second or two to regain his breath after his exertion of running through the palace to find them._

_“You majesties, the young princess has taken a turn for the worse. It is doubtful she will survive the night.”_

**********

It was well past noon and the White Rabbit still had not arrived. Will was pacing about, mumbling about what sort of side dish would go well with rabbit stew as he was starting to fancy having himself some, whilst the rest just tried to keep their nerves in check.

Alice kept checking skyward, not that she expected the rabbit to arrive that way, but she had noticed a darkness gathering in the distance. It didn’t seem like a regular storm to her, and with how antsy both Cyrus and Anastasia had become in the past while she thought it was safe to assume it was magic, and most likely had something to do with Jafar.

They had already discussed where they were going, which had been a bit of an argument as Will longed to return to Storybrooke, Anastasia really didn’t care where they went and Cyrus was adamant on England. Alice wasn’t sure why he was so set on that, unless it had something to do with the lack of magic there. Maybe he thought they’d be safer, but he was hard to sway from his desire to go there.

Will had actually been the voice of reason in it all, much to everyone’s surprise. He mentioned it would be best they went somewhere with magic to start, and then try to get the compass to take them to Cyrus’ mum. Alice hadn’t understood that at first, until Anastasia explained she’d enchanted it to take them to whatever realm the woman was in.

Cyrus was still against anywhere magical, but had let it go. Alice hated when he did that, as she could tell he was just doing it out of habit from centuries of bowing to the wants of others. He had inquired if the spell would not take them to the realm his mother was in regardless, but with the looming threat of Jafar Anastasia was afraid something would go wrong.

That was when Will started babbling about the rabbit and his exceptionally bad habit of being late. Alice had simply smiled, be it a bit strained, and went over to talk with him as she could tell this venting wasn’t so much to do with the rabbit as it was to do with the fact he had to travel with his former love.

“Are you okay?” she inquired coming up beside him.

Will shrugged; he was about as okay as he could be when it came to be around Anastasia, with his heart back in his chest no less. “Bloody lovely, I’m guessing we can’t ditch her highness before jumping into the rabbit hole can we?”

Alice shook her head, wondering why he asked when he obviously knew the answer. “She’s the one with the compass and can use magic. She’s also Cyrus’ mistress now, so we can’t go anywhere without her. I’m sure you can put any differences aside until we figure out where we’re going to stay for awhile, or find his mother.”

“Not sure I can,” he blurted out, tilting his head back and exhaling. Will wasn’t sure he could be around her for very long, every time he looked at her it just stirred up feelings he didn’t want. He hadn’t put his heart back in not only to avoid the heartache and pain her betrayal had caused him, but to avoid the longing for her as well.

He knew, deep down, he’d always love her. You never forget your first real love. The one you lived for, the one you’d have died for and done anything for. Anastasia was the person, he’d have given up his life for her if he’d had to at any point, whatever it would have took to make sure she was safe.

But it seemed to him she did not feel the same way, as she’d turned her back on him at the first chance of a sparkling crown. He didn’t care what her reasons were; whatever she’d say would be lies now. She’d had years to think over what to say and how to say it to try to convince him it was nothing but truth. She was good, he’d give her that. It was at least twenty-eight years, for him anyway, to weave the most convincing web of lies to prove she had done it all for him. He’d never believe that, he’d never fall for her pretty smiles or the tears that would fall from her crystal blue eyes again.

He may be the Knave of Hearts, but he was no simpleton. No woman would make a fool of him again, even if he did have his heart back.

But that didn’t stop him from glancing over to her, a slight pain in his chest as he watched her talk to Cyrus. Will tried to deny it, but he worried for her safety now that she owned the genie’s will. Jafar would be coming for blood and he wouldn’t care who he had to torture to get those three wishes made to put Cyrus back in his bottle.

Maybe he did care a little after all this time, but he was not going to listen to her lies or open himself up to her once more. He would never allow himself to be vulnerable to anyone again, Alice may babble about how love doesn’t need proof but he begged to differ. There was nothing Anastasia could do to prove her love to him.

Anastasia noticed Will watching her out of the corner of her eye, but paid him no heed. He was being stubborn, which really wasn’t anything new for him. She’d dealt with that before and she just had to wait it out. She had her doubts he would ever forgive her for what she did, and even less hope that he’d ever love her again but she wanted to explain to him what had happened that night.

But right then wasn’t the time.

“He still loves you, deep down,” Cyrus observed, watching the way the two looked at each other. He already knew Anastasia held strong feelings for the Knave, but he could also sense how much Will still loved her even if he was trying to deny it. In time he would give in, but the genie had a feeling it was going to be a very long time.

Will seemed to be the very definition of stubborn.

Anastasia smiled, brushing a few stray strands of blonde hair out of her face. The wind was really starting to kick up and she was beginning to worry the White Rabbit would arrive too late, like always. “I had a feeling; I doubt he’ll admit it anytime soon. But I need to talk to you about something.”

Cyrus tilted his head, he knew what she was about to say. He hadn’t lied when he told her he could tell what a person was about to wish for before they even spoke, and although she’d promised not to use any wishes he could feel she wanted to make one. “I will not be angry.”

“Ah, so you can tell when someone is going to make one. I did promise not to, and I never go back on a promise but it has occurred to me the bond between Alice and Will’s fate needs to be severed. Not just because of Jafar, but should anything ever befall one the other will suffer the same fate. I don’t think you want to see Alice die prematurely should something unfortunate happen to Will. I know I have no desire to see Will pass away before his time if Alice meets her end in an untimely way, no matter if he takes me back or not. He may never love me again, but I have no desire to see him hurt or suffering,” she explained, glancing again towards Will.

She’d thought that wish rather ill advised, but of course in the spur of the moment one may not think things through. She personally would have wished Jafar powerless, but maybe a genie’s magic couldn’t do that. Alice would possibly know better than anyone else gathered at that time, aside from Jafar, how it worked.

“Speak the words, and I shall do as you command,” Cyrus stated, his eyes seeking out Alice as he spoke. He hoped she wouldn’t be angry a wish had been used as it was for the benefit of both her and her friend.

Anastasia still felt strange going back on her promise, but it was for the best. “I wish for Alice’s life to no longer be tied to the Knave of Hearts’,” she wished, watching as a strange golden light appeared between Cyrus’ hands.

“As you wish, mistress mine.”

**********

_There were few candles to light the way, but he knew how to find Nadira’s room with his eyes blindfolded. The lack of flickering candlelight would not hinder him, he had to see her._

_Their parents thought they’d sheltered all their children from the illness going through the palace, but Cyrus had heard whispers of servants passing away from a disease that ruined the lungs. When Nadira had first begun to feel ill he had worried, and now he was terrified that she would soon be taken by the same illness that had already claimed so many._

_He reasoned the person who surmised she would not last the night could be wrong; Nadira was young and strong, she could pull through. He hoped and prayed she would as he could not imagine his life without her cheerful laughter ringing through the halls or her smile that could lift anyone’s spirits._

_As he slipped into her rooms, a hand gently grabbed him by the arm. He turned to see his mother in the faint candlelight spilling forth from his sister’s bedroom. She looked exhausted, and her eyes were rimmed with red. He could tell she’d recently been crying. “Where are you going Cyrus?”_

_Pari really didn’t need to ask, it was more than obvious but she knew she should stop him. This disease was spreading fast, she knew there was always a chance her sons could contract it as well but she didn’t want to allow them too close to anyone infected._

_But the desperate look in Cyrus’ brown eyes stayed her rebuke. Maybe, just maybe, Nadira was sick with a different disease. Maybe it wasn’t the same one that was taking lives at a steady rate through the palace servants. Maybe Nadira would survive the night and regain her health._

_Yet Pari had strong doubts her daughter would see sunrise._

_“I must see Nadira,” Cyrus beseeched, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb his sister._

_“Your father forbade any of you to enter this room,” Pari reminded him, pulling him slightly out of the room. “Yet I had a feeling you wouldn’t listen.”_

_Cyrus grinned ever so slightly. “How well you know me, but I must see Nadira if this is the last time.”_

_“I would hate to deny her your company, as that is what she asked for before she fell asleep. Nadira may not wake up again, be prepared for that. I hope by this late stage she is not contagious but sadly any of us could already be infected and not realize it yet,” Pari said in answer to his plea._

_She let go of him and watched sadly as he went to his sister’s bedside. It pained her to watch as he gathered Nadira’s limp form up in his arms, not caring if she was contagious or not._

_Pari considered going to sit with them, but she’d already spent hours with Nadira and had made her peace with the fact it was more than likely the last time she’d speak to her daughter in this life. She would not intrude on whatever time Cyrus and Nadira had left to spend in each other’s company._

_Nadira did wake, she noted, and there were words spoken in soft whispers. It was strange to see how distressed Cyrus was against Nadira’s calm. She wasn’t sure how long the conversation between the siblings lasted, but she knew it was a lot longer than a few minutes, somehow Nadira managed to hold on as long as she possibly could. The younger of the two had come to realize this was her last time with her brother, and it broke Pari’s heart to watch._

_Just as the sun was beginning to paint the sky with shades of amber and rose, what was left of her broken heart shattered as Cyrus began to weep, holding the lifeless body of his sister close._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizes if that was sad...really sorry. This story might start to get dark, I'm not sure yet as I swear at times the characters take over as there have been certain things I really didn't intend and they just sort of went 'No, like this!' and yeah.
> 
> I know that sounds odd, but it has always been that way when I write. Anyway, thanks for anyone still reading, I know this update schedule is tedious. But at least OUATIW is back this week. I was so hoping it would focus more on Cyrus but I guess one more week for that. *sigh* As you can tell, he's my favourite character.


	6. An Escape and The Beginning of the End.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument over where they're escaping to, even though it had been decided on, results in Cyrus' secret being revealed. Jafar arrives, intent on reclaiming his errant genie and the White Rabbit digs his hole for them to escape to somewhere safe.
> 
> In England, Millie tries to convince herself all stories have a sad part right before the happy ending, because there has to be one.
> 
> And in the past, Cyrus, Raheem and Faarih go in search of something to cure their mother, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.
> 
> I really am not great at action scenes I swear.

Millie nibbled at her cake, starting to wonder if she wanted to hear the rest of this tale. Pari had said from the beginning that the princess didn’t live but it still made her sad to hear Nadira’s mother and oldest brother had been there when she’d died.

Tears stung her eyes, and she reminded herself this was all a story; none of it was real. Pari was just a good storyteller; she made it sound real and like these people did exist in a time long ago. They weren’t real, none of it was. This was just like the other stories her mum didn’t let her read, just with a really sad part in the middle before the happy ending.

Of course there would be a happy ending; she knew there had to be one. There was a wedding still, and when Cyrus married Jasmyn they would fall in love and live happily ever after. That was what happened in fairy tales, so it had to come to pass in this one she was hearing now.

All Millie had to do was get through hearing the sad parts first, and then she’d get the happy ending.

**********

“What the bloody hell was that?” Will shouted as he felt something rush over him. A glance at Alice told him she knew exactly what had just happened, and she almost looked upset.

Anastasia walked over, the bottle still clutched in her hand. How she longed for that rabbit to just show up so they could get out of Wonderland. The wind was really blowing now, the dark clouds were steadily drawing near and she knew this was only a forerunner to Jafar. Sometimes he enjoyed putting on a show, not often, but this time he seemed to desire it.

Or he was trying to put them all off balance so they would make a mistake in their escape. The sorcerer was impossible to predict, and she knew that idea was even as unlikely as the rest. The only thing she knew was he would come for them, and the sooner they were all safely out of Wonderland the better.

“You made a wish,” Alice asserted, her blue eyes widening with surprise. “You swore you wouldn’t.”

“I had to. Your first wish had to be undone, leaving your fate linked to Will’s would just bode ill for both of you over time. Did you want to spend the rest of your days wondering what sort of trouble Will could get into that would result in his death, and yours’ by extension?” Anastasia asked, her eyes pleading for them to understand her reasoning.

“Hey, maybe she’d be the one off doing something bloody stupid that would end up with me dead before my time,” Will argued, but there was no hint of anger in his voice just an underlying note of slight amusement. “Look Alice, I love you like you were my own sister, but dropping dead the exact moment as you isn’t high on my list of experiences I’d want to share with anyone.”

Anastasia shook her head, trying not to smile. Either of them could do something foolish that would cost the other, but at least Will wasn’t angry at her for the moment. She knew there would be fighting later, but for now they seemed to have a temporary truce.

“I suppose it wasn’t the best wish to make, but it was in the heat of the moment,” Alice acknowledged as Cyrus walked over and took her hands in his. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him as she rested her head on his shoulder. Soon they’d be safe, the threat of Jafar would be behind them and they could move forward trying to find his mother.

Cyrus glanced up at the sky; the air was ablaze with magic. Alice and Will couldn’t feel it, but he knew Anastasia could sense it as well. It amazed him Jafar had waited this long to come seeking them, he knew the sorcerer was a patient man but everyone had their limits. This storm seemed to indicate Jafar had finally reached his.

“It’s about bloody time!” Will cried out when he saw the familiar form of the White Rabbit walking towards them.

They all turned to see who they’d been waiting on most of the day walking through some tall grass, with an apologetic look on his face. He fidgeted with his jacket a bit as he tried to explain why he was late, yet again.

Surprisingly, it was Cyrus who cut him off. Alice could tell he was getting nervous, he really didn’t have many tell tale signs, there was just something about how he moved or even the inflections in his voice that told her when he was becoming anxious. “We don’t have time for one of your usual excuses; please just dig your hole so we can get out of here before it is too late.”

Will whistled at that, he never thought he’d hear Cyrus use a firm tone. The way Alice spoke of him the genie was the picture of poise and calm. This certainly did not quite follow in line with that, which actually made Cyrus feel a little more like a person to Will. It was great hearing all of Alice’s memories of her time with him, when he didn’t feel like he was getting cavities that is, but it did seem like the object of her affections had very little to no personality.

Evidently that had been way off the mark, but then one could never make assumptions until they met someone. He turned and looked at the rabbit, who was standing there looking a little taken aback. “Well, you heard the genie; dig your bloody hole and get us out of here before one of us, or Jafar, makes rabbit stew.”

“Where to?” the rabbit asked, deciding he really shouldn’t be too insulted by the tones of voice he was getting from the two who had chosen to speak so far. He had aggravated Cyrus before, and Will was always short tempered.

Will took a minute to process what was being said, still marveling at the clipped tone the genie had spoken in a few moments ago. He took one look at Cyrus and noted a certain expression burning in his eyes, and he was fairly certain there was no love lost between the rabbit and him. He actually wondered what the White Rabbit could have ever said to anger Cyrus.

The White Rabbit tugged at the lapels on his jacket a bit, glad Cyrus couldn’t use his magic at will. He had thought that suggestion all those years ago on how to keep Alice safe was water under the proverbial bridge, but evidently not. It would appear he was holding a slight grudge over that, although it was hard to blame him. That suggestion might have been well meaning, but he should have figured, like Alice, Cyrus had been alone for so long he wouldn’t appreciate being told he should give up the person he loved to live a solitary life again.

“Storybrooke.”

“England.”

Will and Cyrus glanced at each other, having both spoken at the same time. Even Alice seemed slightly surprised, she was so accustom to Cyrus not arguing after a decision had been made that she had figured they were going to the place Will had spoken about with care bears and something called a telly. It made sense to go to Storybrooke; at least there was magic and ways to travel from realm to realm once they decided to go in search of his mother.

In England there was no way to leave, unless the rabbit decided to take a trip or Alice chanced upon a portal by mistake. And even then it would just bring them back to Wonderland. She had never understood why she found them so easily, she supposed after one trip the realm would somehow find a way to bring her back.

This time though, she didn’t want to come back. Not so long as Jafar was around.

“Look, we already decided on Storybrooke, there are people there that can help us realm jump again if we need to,” Will stated, to which Cyrus shook his head. The Knave could tell this was not going to be an easy argument, and had a feeling the other was going to argue every point he made.

Cyrus was tired of doing what everyone else wanted; he’d spent centuries doing as he was told. Maybe it was from reliving his past with Anastasia, but a small part of who he used to be was starting to awaken in him. Of course he couldn’t order everyone around on a whim, but he most certainly wasn’t going to be pushed around on this matter. “I will not go anywhere with magic, I am weary of being around it.”

Will couldn’t help the burst of laughter that broke forth from his lips. “That’s rich, coming from you! We’ve already talked about it, once we’re in England we’re there, no leaving, no finding your mother or anything else. We can’t leave England, at least in Storybrooke we can find help to move from realm to realm. At a price,” he explained.

Anastasia’s head snapped up at that, she’d been busy studying the ground to stay out of the argument that was heating up. It would cost them to find a way to move from realm to realm from Storybrooke, which could only mean one thing. “You surely are not suggesting Rumplestiltskin, there isn’t a one of us who could pay the price for a bit of magic or a favour that high.”

Will waved a hand at her dismissively. “He’s mellowed out, never mind the time he almost beat that florist to death. Oh, and bringing magic back so you want to stay clear of Regina, but come to think of it he might not do me any favours. I did steal from him a few times during the curse and he might want that stuff back. But I’m sure Alice and Cyrus here could charm him enough to get some help out of him.”

“You’re insane, he won’t help us! Not without a price none of us can afford to pay,” Anastasia repeated, her voice taking on a frantic edge. She would not deal with that man. With their luck he’d want the compass as recompense for the favour, making the whole deal a moot point.

Alice looked from Anastasia to Will, wondering what was so horrible about this person they spoke of. She could remember storybooks as a child saying he turned straw into gold, and deals for first born children but other than that she had no idea what the big deal was. She’d happily pay whatever price it was to find Cyrus’ mother again. She’d grown up without a mother, or even a father’s love, if she could somehow give him back his mother she would pay whatever price. He’d done so much for her, it was the least she could do.

“I said no, I will not go and make deals with this person. All magic has a price, I would think you would understand that Will,” Cyrus argued, pulling away from Alice and walking towards the man who was agitating him.

Will took a few steps back, starting to wish the genie was the picture of poise and calm still. Maybe this show of emotions and a different bit of personality wasn’t such a good thing after all, considering he was rather sturdy looking. Will was fairly certain if they came to blows over this, he’d be the loser. “Look mate, I get it. Trust me, I understand there is a cost when magic is involved now but we can’t go from realm to realm in England. Unless you just want to come back here and somehow I doubt that,” he refuted, raising his hands in a slight gesture of surrender.

“I said no, and that is final. I will not go to this place you call Storybrooke. We are going to England,” he stressed, his tone leaving little room for argument. It was more than obvious to all gathered he was not going to be swayed on this.

But Will always enjoyed a challenge, and quite frankly this trip to Wonderland likely set him back weeks or even months on her favourite show on the telly. He knew he was being frivolous, but it was easier to focus on the things of no consequence then everything that had happened since he arrived. They were going to Storybrooke, and nothing the genie could say would change that. “Look, it is wonderful you’ve finally decided to be more assertive but pick another place and time. We’re going to Storybrooke and that is final.”

“I have already told you we’re not, this matter is closed and there will be no more arguments made on the subject,” Cyrus maintained, crossing his arms across his chest as he leveled Will with a stern glare.

Anastasia quirked a slender eyebrow as Alice watched the exchange curiously. She was well aware Alice wasn’t putting two and two together, but she could tell something had snapped and they were getting a slight glimpse of who Cyrus was before he’d been turned into a genie.

“Oh sure, your highness, we’ll just take the stupid plan of action and get stranded in England because you’re tired of being around magic,” Will mocked, feeling frustrated that they were fighting over this when there was no reason to. They needed the rabbit to dig the hole, and he’d rather not be part of the reason they didn’t get away this time.

The shock on Cyrus’ face was hard to miss at the title Will had addressed him with. He glanced over to Anastasia who shook her head; although he knew instinctively she wouldn’t have betrayed his confidence. It was simply a strange coincidence with the word Will had decided to use.

Alice watched with intent at the quick exchange of glances, and the way Cyrus had reacted to what he’d been called. She’d always wondered, after finding out he’d once been mortal, who or what he’d been. The way he talked, despite the fact he was constantly very passive, made her think he’d been of a higher class in whatever land he’d originated from. But now, with how he’d reacted to that title she was beginning to draw a very strong conclusion that he’d been more than just upper class.

Will though, he had already drawn the conclusion Alice was coming to. He hadn’t meant to toss that word out, but it did answer the rest of his questions. That book of sketches had made him wonder, Cyrus had been very detailed in everything; the clothing, the backgrounds and anything else that could have been around what he could remember of his family. He’d seen books whilst under the curse, not in the library of course, but in a book store. He always liked anything that showed photos or illustrations of palaces and the likes. He might have been cursed with a different personality, but he still fancied the concept of nicking things from people better off than himself.

Cyrus’ drawings had put him in mind of court life in countries in the Middle East in that realm, and from the look on the genie’s face he’d nailed it on who he was before he’d been made into a mythical being. He knew he shouldn’t smirk, but he couldn’t help it. “Must feel nice ordering people around again,” he joked, noting the conflicted look in Cyrus’ face. It was more than obvious he wanted to shout at him, but at the same time he did have to do as people wanted.

Will didn’t envy him that, in a way he had the same problem just about everyone back in Storybrooke had; two different people at war in one body. The only difference here was Cyrus technically was still who he used to be, only he’d had to bury it and change the way he acted.

“Let it go Will, you’ll only make things worse. We need to get out of here and fast,” Anastasia pleaded, realizing by the look on Will’s face he was reaching a breaking point. The one thing Will had always hated was when people talked down to him. Her mother had done so numerous times, and he’d normally kept it to himself but once in awhile he’d let the flood gates open and allow it all out. That never ended well.

Will glanced over at her, disbelief in his face. “Like hell I’m going to let this go, we’re not making a stupid choice just for him. He might have been a prince a long, long time ago but he isn’t now. I won’t be ordered around, and we’re not going to England. Once we get there we’re trapped, and since you’re all bent on finding his mother I don’t think that would be a wise choice, no matter what his highness here thinks.”

“Stop calling me that,” Cyrus snapped. “I do not wish to be addressed so.”

“Ah well, you’re the genie now. Genies don’t get wishes, remember?” he shot back, regretting instantly being so harsh. His emotions were running high, the storm was closing in and they were no closer to getting out of Wonderland. Although he didn’t regret it too much, as once he started running at the mouth he found it hard to stop. “You had a chance to be free, but you had to be a fool and take all of that back. All your talk about love and the first chance you get at spending your life with the person you love, without anything standing in the way, and you run.”

Cyrus took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It would do no good to start a fight with Will, be it with words or physically. He knew everyone’s emotions were running high, words were being thrown about like weapons meant to wound and he wasn’t going to be drawn into a fight. But he was not going to this place called Storybrooke either. “Did you long to remain in that bottle?”

“Of bloody course not! I’m sure I could have gotten out of it eventually, I’m anything if not resourceful,” Will argued. “But that has nothing to do with this.”

“It doesn’t matter, I freed you. I told you it was I who took on that life, not you. I could have left you, I considered leaving you as you were but I could not. You ended up in my bottle by mistake, and as much as I long to be free I know that wasn’t how it was to happen,” Cyrus said, glancing over at the White Rabbit and wondering why he wasn’t digging a hole. They had to leave and soon.

Anastasia walked over and grabbed Will by the arm, but was pushed off quick. “Will, there’s no time for this. We can argue, fight, scream and insult each other all we please once we’re safely out of here. Why Cyrus took all that back from you is neither here nor there at this exact moment, just be glad to have your freedom and let it go. We need to get out of here!”

The White Rabbit looked at them all, but didn’t say a word as he started to dig a hole. He didn’t understand what difference it made which world they went to, but he thought maybe he could atone a bit for what he’d said to Cyrus all that time ago about leaving Alice for her own safety. They didn’t need to know he was sending them to England until they arrived there.

If Cyrus wanted to go to England, he’d dig a hole there. Maybe with Cyrus at her side Alice could begin to mend her relationship with her father as well. Besides, if they were so desperate to get to another realm after England all they had to do was wish it, if Cyrus had been wished from one realm into Wonderland, surely they could wish for him to take them to Storybrooke.

All they had to do was make sure one of them held his bottle when a final wish was made.

Will glanced over at the rabbit, pleased to see he was beginning to dig a hole. They’d decided on Storybrooke and that was where they were going. “Look, we’re getting out of here and I don’t care who or what you used to be, or the fact you seem to think you can start ordering people around again. And trust me, I want to know what you mean on how that isn’t how it was to happen as well. But first, we’re getting out of Wonderland before it is too late!”

“How sad for you all, it is already too late.”

**********

_Today should have been his wedding day._

_The thought crossed Cyrus’ mind as he sat quietly by the one fountain Nadira seemed to like. He never was sure what it was about it, there were other fountains on the palace grounds but this was the one she’d always gravitate towards. Maybe she thought there was something magical about it, or the vantage point gave her a view of something he was just was not seeing, but it was her favourite._

_He felt slightly closer to her when he sat there, even though he knew she was gone and had been for a few weeks._

_It surprised him slightly when his father and Yasir postponed the wedding, but he was thankful they had done so. Everyone was in mourning, and a wedding so soon after a funeral seemed inappropriate. A few people in the court thought maybe it would brighten everyone’s spirits and he’d feared his father might actually go along with it, but he’d admonished them for even voicing such thoughts._

_There would be no celebrating the beginning of the joining of two lives together after one had so recently departed. For once, Naseem was not thinking of what had to be done, he was considering what should be done for the sake of those in mourning._

_Sadly though, Cyrus had begun to notice others seemed to be taking ill with the same cough that had plagued his little sister. In truth he’d noticed the disappearance of some servants in the past few months, but had assumed his father had given them different duties to attend to or had simply let them go. It had never occurred to him that they had died, not until Nadira had died in his arms._

_“Cyrus?”_

_He glanced up to see Jasmyn standing a few feet away. She appeared to be nervous, at least the way she was twisting her long hair in her hands gave way to that assumption. And she was rocking slightly back and forth, which he had to admit was kind of endearing. Maybe this arranged marriage wouldn’t end in misery, whenever it came to pass. No new plans had been made as of that moment, at least not that he knew of. “Is something wrong?”_

_Jasmyn bit her bottom lip, not sure if she wanted to be the one to break the news to him. She could tell he was still trying to work through the grief from Nadira, something that would take a long time. She had thought to leave it to Naseem to tell him, but the man had insisted the news come from her._

_She hated to be the bearer of bad news. She was hating it even more as he smiled at her, trying to ease her nerves. Maybe the wedding should have happened as planned, she still loved the man she’d left behind but she could learn to enjoy a life with Cyrus as well. Which was making this harder for her to tell him._

_“Your mother is sick, and with the same disease that took Nadira. From what I’ve been told she likely only has a few days, at most, to live.”_

**********

“Bloody hell.”

Will felt that was a bit of an understatement, but it was his usual expression when anything seemed to be going south, and this situation had more than gone south. It had gone straight to hell without taking any detours so far as he was concerned.

Jafar was not playing games this time around. Sure, he’d stood there being menacing for awhile and taunted Alice with everything he’d do to her genie once he owned Cyrus’ will. No one bothered to inform the sorcerer that the person in question had a new mistress, and she had two wishes between him and that becoming a reality, although he’d most likely start to figure out something was wrong when he couldn’t seem to inflict any harm on three of the four of them.

The sorcerer had either forgotten about the rabbit or felt he wasn’t worth the time. Although Will began to surmise Jafar wanted them to escape, or three of the four at any rate. To what end he had in mind with that, he couldn’t even begin to fathom. So far as he could understand, Cyrus was useless to him without the bottle and the wishes being used up.

At least the sorcerer hadn’t realized yet that he couldn’t hurt Anastasia, Alice and himself. As if on instinct, they all made sure to dodge any attack, or to retaliate in one way or another, all to keep him from realizing something wasn’t right with the situation. If he found out they were impervious to harm, he may realize something had happened in those weeks he’d seemingly allowed them a reprieve.

It all seemed to be going well until Alice didn’t move fast enough and was hit by a blast of magic Jafar had sent her way. If they weren’t in such a dire predicament Will likely would have laughed at the expression that washed over the sorcerer’s face when nothing happened. The confusion was gone a second later, giving way to fury.

“What did you do?” he snarled, turning his attention to Cyrus. With a motion of his hand he cut off the genie’s breathing passage, causing him to fall to his knees as he desperately fought for air.

Alice ran over to him, trying to find some way to help despite the fact there was nothing any of them could do. Will didn’t envy him, he remembered quite well the terror that went through his mind when Jafar had used the same trick on him. Although he was quite certain it wouldn’t kill Cyrus, he was positive genies were immortal, but it wouldn’t make life pleasant for the time being.

“Stop it Jafar, and if you’d just think he can’t answer you if he can’t breathe!” Anastasia snapped, glaring at her former associate. She was really beginning to wonder if he ever thought anything through.

Jafar grinned, a most unappealing sight to all gathered. “I don’t need him to answer, I’ve grown quite accustom to the fact he won’t answer me with anything but half formed truths. But you three, you’ll answer. It is true he is hard to kill, but I doubt any of you can stand to watch a friend suffer.”

“Look, he didn’t do anything,” Will said. Part of him was still angry at Cyrus for his second wish, but he couldn’t stand to see the frantic look in Alice’s blue eyes as she watched the man she loved struggling to draw in air. “Okay, well, technically he did but that isn’t the point here. There was a little role reversal thing that happened with Alice’s last wish and Cyrus was set free for a little while. But then he used his three wishes to protect us against you, wish me back something I didn’t want and then set the roles back right. So you can let the poor guy breathe again now!”

Anastasia groaned as the sorcerer let his magical hold on the genie go. That was just what they needed; Jafar now knew Alice was no longer Cyrus’ mistress. “Will, do you ever think before you speak, darling?”

Cyrus collapsed to the ground, gasping for air while Alice moved her hand in soothing circles on his back. Jafar looked at them for a moment, annoyed. Maybe he shouldn’t have waited so long to seek them out, but then the spell wouldn’t have worked with the wrong person in the bottle. It was very specific, mind he could have just used a wish to put Cyrus back where he belonged and the proceeded to kill the Knave for fun.

He might have enjoyed that as well, but it was water under the bridge. “I’m glad to see the object of your affection tends to run at the mouth, my dear girl,” he commented, his voice betraying his amusement. “But he failed to tell me who holds the genie’s will now. It certainly isn’t Alice; a genie cannot belong to the same person twice. That only leaves two other options, and something tells me it isn’t your dear Knave.”

Alice tuned out the conversation, she could tell Jafar had figured out who was in possession of the wishes, but he couldn’t do anything to Anastasia to force her into using them. Unless he went after the remaining Tweedle and somehow she had her doubts that would really force the woman’s hand all that well. “Come on, we have to get out of here,” she whispered as Cyrus began to stand.

“Promise me Alice, no matter what, you’re going to leave Wonderland. With or without me,” Cyrus suddenly said, grasping her hands in his. 

“Don’t talk like that, we’re all going together,” she assured him, pulling him towards the hole the White Rabbit had dug. They were all getting out of Wonderland together, she wasn’t sure how but they were leaving.

Cyrus pulled back, much to her shock. She turned to look at him and was rather confused by the frightened expression on his face. She looked down and could see nothing of concern, but obviously he thought there was. He stood completely still, his eyes wide and breathing shallow.

She glanced over when she saw a flash of red tumble to the ground. The three of them may be protected from harm, but it obviously didn’t mean that Jafar couldn’t toss them about if the notion struck him and it obviously had. Anastasia was currently picking herself up off the ground, her blue eyes darting about frantically in search of something.

It was that moment Will finally decided to let his heart take over and grabbed his former love by the arm and began pulling her towards the rabbit hole. “Come on, whatever little bauble you think you lost is not important,” he said as she tried to pull out of his grasp. She’d forgotten just how strong he was, as she couldn’t get free.

“It wasn’t a bauble! I dropped the bottle, and in case you’ve failed to notice our genie is having some issues of his own!” she exclaimed, digging her heels into the ground in an effort to make him stop moving. It was just great he’d decided it was time to get out of Wonderland, and fast, but they couldn’t leave without the very reason Alice had come back in the first place.

Will’s head snapped around to see Cyrus looking very similar to the night before, making him let go of Anastasia and searching around for any more little garter snakes. A quick scan of the area proved there were none, making him wonder what exactly had the genie looking to be on the verge of a panic attack.

Jafar snickered, enjoying the panic and confusion playing out before him. “Oh, I suppose I could let you in on the little secret going on here,” he chided, waving his hand to reveal what was keeping Cyrus from moving.

Both Alice and Anastasia took a few steps back, their eyes sparkling with a tinge of fear. Will mumbled his usual ‘bloody hell’, glaring darkly at the sorcerer. “Had to go all out didn’t you?” There was no chance he was going to saunter over this time and grab the snakes that were currently holding Cyrus perfectly still. Cobras were not the sort of snake he felt like handling, be them magically conjured or not.

“He’s afraid of snakes?” Anastasia marveled, that was something that she’d never picked up on in all the time she’d been around him, whilst he was being kept prisoner and during their travel that had been the beginning of their friendship. Like Jafar, she’d noticed the genie’s dislike of the sorcerer’s serpent staff, but she’d never entertained the idea Cyrus was afraid of what creature it was fashioned after.

Alice glanced towards the rabbit hole, and back to Cyrus. Her eyes were beginning to blur with tears as she was starting to realize why he’d brought up her leaving without him. He’d been evading Jafar for a long time, and she knew despite his normally optimistic views on life he had also been certain one day his luck would run out and Jafar would catch him. Right about then, it was pretty obvious they might have to leave and formulate a plan to come back and rescue him, again.

Will moved towards Alice, putting an arm around her shoulders as he could tell she was torn on what to do. Jafar couldn’t hurt them, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t find other ways to break them, or even find a spell that would be able to find a way around their invulnerability to any harm Jafar could inflict upon them.

There was the very real possibility he could torture Cyrus right before their very eyes in order to break them, in a bid to force Anastasia into using her wishes. Of course they could attempt to force Cyrus to move, despite being frozen with fear, but Will had a feeling a snake bite wasn’t included in the ‘safe from harm caused by Jafar’ part of the wish. They might be made by Jafar, but they weren’t exactly controlled by him.

There really was no way around it; they were going to have to leave Cyrus behind. They couldn’t take on Jafar, and Will knew that he wouldn’t kill the genie so long as he needed him alive. Once they were in Storybrooke they could find a way back to Wonderland, as well they might be able to find a few people to help them as well. He could think of one or two people who always enjoyed a heroic quest.

He lightly touched Alice on the shoulder, getting her attention. “I’m sorry, but there is no way around this. We’ll find help and come back, I promise.”

Alice looked back to Cyrus, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’ to him, although she wasn’t sure he even noticed in his panicked state. He was obviously terrified of snakes, not that she could blame him right then and there.

“You know we’ll be back for him, don’t you?” Anastasia ground out, still looking around for the bottle. Maybe it had fallen through the rabbit hole, she’d landed close to it when she’d taken that tumble.

Jafar grinned. “I’m counting on it, darling.”

Cyrus was vaguely aware of them leaving; it really didn’t matter as all he cared about was them getting away safely. They were safe from any magical harm Jafar could come up with, but the wish wouldn’t save them if he decided to impale them on the bottom end of his staff. He’d seen that wish before, and was glad they were smart enough to realize it wasn’t all encompassing.

Once the portal out of Wonderland closed, Jafar flicked his hand and the snakes dissipated. Cyrus didn’t wait to see what he was going to do next, he started to run. He didn’t know where he was going, or where he was going to hide but he was going to give it his best shot. The home he’d made for Alice was not an option, if Jafar had found them he likely knew about that.

He didn’t get very far before he felt something tighten around his ankles, causing him to fall unceremoniously upon the hard ground. A second later his wrists were secured together as well with a thick rope. He could feel an all too familiar tingling sensation and knew there was silver threaded through the twine. Jafar had really given this a great deal of thought.

Cyrus wasn’t one to give up easily though, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and tried to reach for his ankles, if he could untie that bit of rope he could still run. He didn’t care about the burning sensation as his fingers would brush against the threads of silver; he just needed to get away.

He didn’t get very far before something hard struck him in the back of the head, rendering him unconscious. Jafar stood over his unconscious prisoner, a bored expression on his face but still a satisfied gleam in his dark eyes. “I don’t know why you bother genie, you waste precious energy on such a foolish aspiration of a fake sense of freedom. No matter, I have your bottle and you, all I need now is to locate a spell that works over the three wishes to put you back where you belong. I will use you and the other two genies to get what I want, there is no doubt in that.”

**********

Will dragged himself up out of the rabbit hole, more than ready to lay eyes on all the peculiar people of Storybrooke and maybe pop into Granny’s to return that key he’d nicked. He might even give her some money for that cup of coffee, or maybe not. That hole in the floor was likely a costly expense, and he really didn’t want to pay for it.

He glanced around, wondering what part of the town they’d ended up in. Anastasia was standing a few feet away, smiling appreciatively at the beauty of the place they’d found themselves, the trees were awash with green, and flowers dotted the landscape in a variety of colours. There was even the sound of birds peeping in the lightly scented air. It was beautiful, but Will couldn’t place it, unless they had ended up outside of Jefferson’s large estate.

One glance at Alice told him they had not. She knew where they were, all too well. “Alice, I think I’ve figured it out, but where exactly are we?”

She looked over to her companions, the tears that had been threatening to fall in Wonderland finally breaking free and trickling down her face. She knew this place well, she had spent many hours of her carefree childhood days dashing about the paths looking for rabbit holes after that first time she fell down one. When she wasn’t seeking a way to that fanciful and dangerous realm, she was having tea parties to practice the proper way to act the next time she saw her dear Mad Hatter.

“We’re in England,” she whispered, reaching up and wiping the tears from her eyes.

Anastasia’s mouth fell slightly open in shock, this wasn’t the plan. Before she could speak, Will jumped in. “Why the bloody hell would that rabbit dig a hole to England when we told him Storybrooke?” he demanded, reaching up to run his fingers through his cropped hair.

“To make up for something he said to Cyrus years ago, saying he should leave me for my own safety. Rabbit just wanted to make amends by sending us where Cyrus wanted to go,” Alice softly said, her mind racing. They were as trapped as he was now.

“So can you find another one of those lovely rabbit holes to get back to Wonderland? You seemed to fall into them frequently when you were a kid,” Will inquired, glancing about. If this was where Alice grew up he had to admit he envied her a bit. Just the grounds were lovely; he wondered what the house was like.

Alice shook her head. “It was very random, sometimes I’d find them every few weeks after I’d return, other times I might go a year or two. And it is hard to say if he’ll dig another one now, maybe Jafar killed him for helping us or to stop him from coming to find us to rescue Cyrus.”

At the sight of her distress Will went over to take Alice in his arms in an effort to comfort her, as she’d burst into tears at the thought they might never get back to rescue the man she loved. In an effort to give the friends privacy, Anastasia reached into the pocket of her cloak to pull out the genie’s compass. She wasn’t sure why she desired to look at it, all it did was spin. She mused it had given him hope and comfort for years unending; it might do the same for her in this predicament. They’d only started to form a friendship in the last few weeks, but she couldn’t stand to think what Jafar could be doing to him, and they were powerless to stop it.

She glanced down at the compass in her gloved hand, her blue eyes going wide with shock. This was most unexpected and heartbreaking at the same time. The compass was no longer in a constant spinning motion, it was pointing towards the one person Cyrus had longed to find most.

His mother was in England.

**********

_Time was no longer a luxury they had, and Cyrus was determined he would not see the life slip away from their mother as it had Nadira. He could not abide the thought of that heartache on top of the pain dealt by their sister’s death. There had to be a way to cure their mother, something no one had thought of._

_Their father had fallen into a depressive state; he hardly spoke and rarely left the area of the gardens their mother loved. He didn’t even yell at any of his sons, which actually surprised Cyrus. He was fairly certain in the last twenty-four hours he’d done at least one stupid thing that should have set Naseem off, and yet nothing came of it._

_As he turned down the hall towards the dining room he found Faarih and Raheem talking, holding a book. He walked towards them at a fast pace, asking what they were discussing._

_Raheem smiled, although it was forced and lacking any warmth or joy. “This book holds legends of items that have great healing properties. If we could locate just one there is a chance we could cure our mother of this disease.”_

_“But it will be dangerous, some of these items are in places that are difficult to locate, or even travel to. Only three are either within the city, or just outside the boarders. The only trouble is father would kill us for even considering this,” Faarih said, biting his bottom lip lightly as he contemplating their father’s ire._

_“We may all be dead before this disease runs its course, so it matters little. What are the items and how do we find them?” Cyrus asked, not really caring what their father thought. The man was despondent; he highly doubted he would notice one of them missing for a day or two, let alone all three of them. He hadn’t taken a meal with any of them since Pari had fallen ill._

_Raheem described the items, and where to find them. He’d already decided to see if he could discover the genie’s lamp that was supposedly hidden outside of the city. He had his doubts it existed, as genies were more a legend than anything, but it was the quest that appealed to him._

_Faarih was set on finding a certain flower that bloomed only in certain places and it was fortunate there was one garden within the city that it did. He was the son who always managed to sneak out beyond the palace gates and explore, much to Raheem’s bafflement and Cyrus’ envy. He had seen it once, and was sure if he offered enough money in return there was a chance he could persuade the old woman who had the flower to allow him to take just one petal, as that was all that would be needed to cure their mother._

_He had his doubts, of course, as the woman was renowned for being mean spirited and only looked out for herself. Many had tried to persuade her into gifting them with just one petal before, and she always refused. He wasn’t sure he could succeed, but he would try._

_That left Cyrus with the only option left, that being an elixir. The book listed only two sorcerers who had powerful enough magic to be able to make it. One was in the Enchanted Forest, a trip that would take too long, but the other was just outside the city. He felt his skin crawl when he read the name._

_Everyone knew of Ghadir, he was not someone to take lightly. He had been known to do things out of kindness, but that was years ago, long before any of their own memories. Power had corrupted him, and there were whispers he was attempting to create a spell that would break all the laws of magic to make him all powerful._

_Cyrus didn’t care to think of what price he may have to pay for this elixir, but for his mother he’d pay any price. All three of them were desperate; it was obvious his fear for their mother’s life was also haunting his brother’s thoughts._

_No matter the cost, one of them was going to find the cure. It didn’t matter which of the three found it, but they promised to meet in the dining room just before the evening meal, and hopefully one would hold the cure for their mother within their hands.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter for this is pushing 30 pages...I'm debating posting it as one chapter or breaking it into two. That is if I can find a good spot to break it that is.
> 
> And how great was the last episode? About time Cyrus took the spotlight, too bad he'll likely only get the one episode. And frankly, if that spell is still going to work...well...I just lost my faith in cohesive writing. I just don't see how it is going to work after everything that has been revealed.


	7. Fairy Tales Don't Always End Happily.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice, Will and Anastasia try to figure out a way back to Wonderland, although it is the former Red Queen who realizes the sad turn of events actually could lead to a way back to Cyrus. If she can be located easily.
> 
> Pari's tale comes to it's end, much to Millie's distress.
> 
> In the past, Cyrus enters into a deal to save his mother and everyone else in the palace, one that ends with heartbreaking words from his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.
> 
> As well - I wrote the flashbacks a month ago to incorporate whenever I got the chapter they'd go written. There is a slight similarity to what happened Thursday night (no one dies though), so just fair warning in case anyone else is still as broken up as I am.
> 
> I don't care that he'll be brought back - that was absolutely horrible and actually a little disturbing on some levels. So I only felt it fair to give warning. Because it is a bit surprising that never leaked about Cyrus.

Alice walked slowly through the garden, up towards her childhood home. If she was lucky no one would be home, or at the very least her step mother would be out. She had no desire to see the woman again, after being coerced into leaving for an asylum.

She was rather excited at the idea of seeing Millie though, the brief interactions she had with the little girl had been enjoyable despite the grief that plagued her at the time. There were times, alone in the asylum, that she’d wondered how Millie could be Sarah’s daughter, as they seemed to be like night and day. But then, she reasoned, there was a chance she wasn’t seeing a side of Sarah that the little girl and her father saw.

That was someone else she was having mixed feelings over; seeing her father after wishing him home. Cyrus had warned her many times that all wishes had strings attached, and the bigger they were the higher the consequence. They’d seen that with the one Will had used, although Cyrus had mentioned the wording had been strange and they should be thankful it hadn’t resulted in her death.

Would her father remember his time in Wonderland? Or would he even remember her for that matter?

“Oye, who’s the hat pin?” Will inquired, pulling her out of her thoughts. Alice looked over to the front walk of the house and managed to stifle a groan.

Of course Sarah would be home, and wandering about outside as well. The day was going poorly enough, the last thing Alice wanted was to deal with her less than amiable step mother.

Sarah was surprised to hear the sound of a man talking; she’d thought Edwin and Millie still in town. She wondered about these excursions they took every afternoon for tea, it puzzled her as there was tea in the kitchen that could be made with ease. If it were sweets they were after she could purchase them, or even bake them herself. She did like to give off the persona of a prim and proper Victorian lady, but she did know how to cook, and as a girl moving towards adulthood she had delighted in baking. It had been something that brought a smile to the faces of some of the patients her father had, as he had been a doctor.

She glanced over, trying to hide her annoyance when she realized it was Alice with two other people she’d never met before. She wondered where she’d run off to this time, after escaping the asylum. The man in her company did fit the description of the one they were told broke her out, but the woman was a complete mystery to her. She was certainly regal looking, despite her odd attire. All three were dressed in very strange clothing.

“Alice, I thought to never see you again,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. She wasn’t overly fond of the girl, mostly due to her wild imagination and fanciful tales. The very concept of being in love with a genie was maddening enough, and now she was back with two strangers. What odd tales would the girl have this time?

After Alice had disappeared though she’d seen the slight error to her treatment of the girl. Her father had admonished her for the way she’d acted, even if the girl was delusional she should have validated her grief, it would have helped her to move on and start to become part of the real world, leaving her land of imagination behind. Sarah had to concede she’d been wrong, but it didn’t mean she was thrilled to see Alice back. In a way she was relieved to see nothing horrible had befallen her, but she didn’t rejoice at the idea of Edwin wanting her to stay under their roof again.

“I wasn’t planning on returning here, but sadly we can’t always plan for the future in ways we would like. Sarah, these are my friends Will and Anastasia,” she answered, introducing her companions to her step mother in turn.

Will simply nodded at his name, while Anastasia smiled. She could tell the woman was quite a tightly wound thing, and likely was very set on having things a certain way. She did hope Sarah would allow them to stay, even if it was for one night, as there was nowhere else for them to go.

At least not until they found Cyrus’ mother, but even then she had her doubts the outcome would be good. If the woman was alive, she knew informing her that her son was alive and in the clutches of a man who was more than likely causing him harm would not be well received.

**********  
 _  
Cyrus nearly jumped a foot in the air when he heard a voice address him from the darkness. He really hated dealing with sorcerers; they were always eccentric and just odd. It wasn’t often he ever needed to seek one out, but this was the first time he’d ever went in search of one as powerful as Ghadir._

_“So you’ve come looking for an elixir, Prince Cyrus,” the man drawled, walking out of the darkened corner of the room he’d been concealed in._

_Cyrus quirked an eyebrow, giving the sorcerer the once over. He looked like he was centuries old, but that was far from the truth. He wasn’t frail, by any means, but did give the impression a good gust of wind off the desert would knock him over. His wizened face was framed by long, white hair and a white beard adorned his jaw, and oddly was well kept, unlike his hair. His clothing was fairly non descript, normal garb for someone who would be considered lower class with beige tones to his shirt and pants._

_Unlike royalty and those born of the higher class, those who lived beyond the palace walls rarely wore anything of colours, as they could not afford the process to create the rich tones that adorned the vest that Cyrus wore, or even the black of his pants or boots. Only his shirt was a neutral tone._

_Ghadir grinned, and Cyrus was a bit surprised to see the man at least had all his teeth. For some reason he had envisioned a hobbling old man with most of his teeth gone. Obviously he shouldn’t make such assumptions. “I see you wear the pretty little bauble I enchanted for you. Has it glowed yet?”_

_Cyrus tried not to flinch back as the sorcerer reached out with long, wrinkled fingers to touch his handiwork. He didn’t flinch, but he was quick to bring his hands up to cover his mouth when he felt a slight cough come on. Once it passed, he informed the man it had not, as of yet._

_With a wave of his hand Ghadir moved away, stating it would if the prince lived long enough. “Which is unlikely right now. Here, have some tea, it is good for what ails us all.”_

_Sorcerers were a strange lot; Cyrus was now convinced of that. He wasn’t sure if he should take anything to eat or drink from the man, but he seemed to be in a good mood, so he decided to risk it. He didn’t feel overly assured when Ghadir grinned even wider as he took up the cup of tea and began to drink._

_“There we go, couldn’t have you dying of that nasty disease after all that is going to happen in your future,” he stated as he moved away, again, going towards a large chest up against a wall._

_“Excuse me?” Cyrus asked, now feeling even more uneasy. He was well aware he’d caught the disease that had killed his sister and was now killing his mother. He’d been trying to hide it from his brothers and their father, but the night before, when he’d been alone in his rooms, he’d been taken with a fit of coughing that had resulted in a blood stained handkerchief._

_The sorcerer looked up from what he was doing, annoyance flickering in his eyes. “You know what I mean; you have the disease as well. Or you did, the tea was laced with the elixir. You’ll all die of it before the week is out if something isn’t done, but I’m not giving this over for free my boy.”_

_“I am aware nothing comes without a price to be paid. Name it and it is yours’,” Cyrus answered, his uneasy intensifying as he watched the man take a cloth pouch out of the chest before him, as well as a brass bottle. He wasn’t sure how the two related to each other, but he knew he was going to find out soon enough, like it or not._

_With a grunt of annoyance, Ghadir dropped the bottle and the pouch on the table before the prince, several vials rolling out of from the confines of cloth. “You have more heart than anyone I have ever met; you would do anything for those you love no matter the cost to yourself. That is a quality few possess, many think solely of themselves and don’t care a whit for others. So the price to pay for this exchange is your mortal life.”_

_That shocked Cyrus, the cup he was holding fell from his lax grip and shattered upon the floor. “Why would you give me any of the elixir if you intended to kill me?”_

_“Don’t take it so literal, my prince. You will live, it is your mortal life I want, your freedom and your station in life will be lost to you. You shall go from a prince to a slave, but your mother, your family and everyone in the palace shall have their lives in exchange for yours’,” he explained, watching with interest as the prince thought over his words._

_Ghadir had not anticipated the final piece to the puzzle of the spell of the three genies to literally walk up to him, seeking help. The spell had become known to him many years ago, as the man who had taught him magic had spent his entire life trying to acquire all three genies, with no avail._

_After the man had died, Ghadir began to realize the problem wasn’t simply finding the three required, it was the third did not exist as of that moment. The first two were obvious, but as people took everything so literal they hadn’t realized that the third was one who had to be cursed to the life of a genie. One with the capacity to love without limits, and genies did not love the way mortals did. They could pretend, but they were lying and attempting to trick their master into switching places with them._

_But this genie would not be like that, this one was required to break one of the laws of magic due to his strong belief in love, but he did not exist yet. But Ghadir knew he had finally found the final genie, he only had to curse him._

_He had known for many years it was Cyrus who would be the third required, he’d witnessed how the prince acted with all he came in contact with. In truth, he thought he’d have to kidnap him or find a way to turn him into a genie from afar, but this worked out far better. When he’d heard of the disease he had hoped to get his hands on the prince before he died from it as well._

_“I still do not understand why you would cure me of the disease if my life is forfeit for the elixir to cure my family and all in the palace,” Cyrus said, eyeing the vials. He could take them easily; he had his sword with him. There was nothing stopping him, but he knew you should never cross a sorcerer. Nothing good ever came of it._

_Ghadir knew instinctively what the prince was contemplating, and hastily shoved the vials back in the pouch, pulling it closer to him. “Because, like all spells and curses, there is a way to break it. If I left you as is, should the curse break you would soon after succumb to the disease that was making waste to your lungs. That would be rather cruel, now wouldn’t it? I can see you have figured out the price to be paid, have you come to a decision?”_

_Cyrus was torn, he had figured out exactly what he would have to give up for those elixirs. He hadn’t made the connection at first, but when he was told he’d go from a prince to a slave he knew exactly what the point was to the bottle. To agree to this would break his mother’s heart, and most likely that of the rest of his family. If only he could return home first, and see if either Raheem or Faarih had been fortunate enough to succeed in their quests._

_“They haven’t found or acquired what is needed, my prince. There are no genies close at hand, trust me, I have searched many times. And that old woman with the flower wouldn’t give up even an inch off one petal for her own kin, there is no chance your brother will convince her to give him a full petal. Even then, he will only be able to cure your mother and she will live to see her husband and sons die. It is up to you, and the clock is ticking,” the sorcerer explained, drumming his fingers on the wood table before him to emphasis his words._

_Cyrus glanced at the bottle again, he wanted to help his mother but at the same time he didn’t want to enter into this bargain. “Will I be able to see my family one last time?”_

_“Of course, I’m not that cruel. I will give you a gift, that you may decide who shall be your first master. Once you are a genie you may take the elixirs and your bottle, return to the palace and put the elixir in the water used for the kitchens, all will be cured, it could take time depending on how ill they were, but they will be cured. Enjoy the time with your family, for when your mother is well you shall be drawn into your bottle. I can see in your eyes that you agree to this price,” Ghadir said, to which Cyrus slowly nodded._

_Although it gave Ghadir great delight to finally have the third genie, he did not possess the other two and knew he never would. But someday, someone would acquire all three genies and enact the spell. He could be content with that, knowing he’d at least helped in making the spell a possibility._

_He did feel a touch of regret; he was destroying a life in the process. But for someone else to achieve ultimate power, sacrifices had to be made. The prince had agreed and there was no turning back now._  
  
**********

Jafar was frustrated. The last time he’d captured the genie he’d simply tossed him in a cage and that had been that. It had been so simple, yet this time he was being fought at every turn. Granted, as he thought back, the genie had been unconscious the first time around. The most he’d done was flinch as he’d been taken through the silver bars.

This time when he’d tried to get Cyrus into the silver cage again, the genie had instantly begun fighting him with great determination, despite his bound wrists. He couldn’t risk the genie falling over the ledge, it didn’t matter so much about the guards; they were disposable and easily replaced. Not that he wanted to go looking for new help, as it could be rather difficult to find in Wonderland, so he had to opt for confining the genie to one of the many rooms in his hidden lair, with some restraints of course.

With a flick of his hand he’d created a chain that was attached to the wall, with a shackle to hold Cyrus’ one wrist tightly in its silver clutch once he unbound them. He grinned with sadistic pleasure when the genie had winced at the touch of the metal upon his skin, instantly wriggling his arm to get his shirt sleeve to completely cover the area under the cuff, without much luck. As the pain etched on his face intensified Jafar walked over and adjusted the cuff so it would no longer be in contact with anything other than material. He may be a cruel man, but he wasn’t going to leave the genie to suffer burns like that. There were other ways to get him under control.

He knew he’d have to implement them and fast, as there was still a fire burning in Cyrus’ dark eyes, and he could hear the determination in his voice whenever he spoke. It was pathetically amusing how Cyrus thought he’d get away this time; the genie didn’t realize he had the White Rabbit as well, locked away in a little cage to keep him from going in search of Alice. No one was coming this time, as he’d gotten the portal digging creature to tell him exactly where he’d dug the hole to.

It was then, when Cyrus insisted he would get away once more, Jafar decided maybe it was time to start breaking his spirit a little. He moved in closer to his prisoner, who only lashed out with his free hand. Jafar caught it quickly in his grasp, tightening his grip on the genie’s wrist until he saw him wince slightly from the pain. “They won’t be coming back for you, none of them. There is no way for them to come back.”

Cyrus’ eyes went wide at that, the sorcerer had to be playing with him. Of course they’d find a way back. He wasn’t stupid, there was little chance of escape this time, although that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try, but he was relying on his friends to come back for him at some point. He just had to hope Jafar didn’t manage to find a spell to work around the three wishes before that time, as he had been talking about the possibility such a spell did exist. He was certain it didn’t, but then spells were not something he knew well. 

Most assumed since he was a genie he knew all there was to know, but in truth the magic did the work. He had no need to know any spells, when a wish was made it all came to him right then, he was more a vessel for the magic to work through than anything. But he was almost certain there was no spell to work around the three wishes, at least he hoped.

“Of course they’ll come back for me,” he shot back, trying to pull his wrist out of Jafar’s grasp, which was only tightening with every second. Cyrus was beginning to wonder if the man was trying to break the fragile bones he had his hand wrapped around, because if not he was doing a great job at making him think that was his intent.

Jafar grinned. “Ah, but I know something you don’t. In a bid to make up for telling you to leave Alice all those years ago for her own safety, which I must admit was sound advice you should’ve taken, that rabbit didn’t dig his hole for that magical place that had been decided on. He dug the hole for England, like you wanted. Without the White Rabbit to dig another there, your precious Alice and the rest are just as trapped as you are,” he explained, giving Cyrus a shove as he let go of the genie’s wrist, pushing him into the stone wall. “Only they’re likely ten times more comfortable than you will be very soon.”

His grin only grew as he watched the realization of how dire the situation really was dawned upon Cyrus. “That’s right genie, you are mine now. And very soon your magic will belong to me as well, so enjoy this small reprieve I am giving you. My guards are still angry over what you did upon your escape, and I assure you they want blood as recompense.”

**********  
 __  
Faarih was close to tears as he stood in the dining room, nothing to show for his efforts that afternoon. The old woman was shrewish at best, and no gift or monetary offer he made for just a scrap of a petal would budge her. She didn’t care if their mother was dying, she adamantly informed him she wouldn’t even give any of the flower up to her own family, even if they came crawling to her in the throes of death.

_He had never met anyone so cruel in all his young life, and hoped to never meet anyone like that again. How could anyone be so cold?_

_At the sound of rushed footsteps he looked up, hoping to see Raheem with a genie’s lamp in his firm grasp, as the dying light of day spilled in through the large windows. But he was to be disappointed, as all he saw was Raheem with his hands void of anything that a genie would be imprisoned in._

_His heart dropped, the fact Cyrus had not returned yet bode ill so far as he was concerned and he could see his distress mirrored in Raheem’s eyes. Ghadir was almost impossible to deal with, many had tried and failed. The only way to strike a deal with him was if you were in possession of something he greatly desired, and they all knew wealth wasn’t it. This had been a fool’s errand from the start._

_Right then, to the surprise of them both Cyrus rushed into the room, out of breath. He was carrying a satchel he’d not had when he left, and out of it he produced a small cloth pouch. Quickly he placed it in Raheem’s hands, as he was standing closest to him, and breathlessly told him to put all of the vials in the water used for drinking, and they all were to drink from it to cure everyone of the disease._

_Raheem didn’t ask any questions, simply rushed to do as he was instructed. Faarih watched as Cyrus collapsed in a nearby chair, slowly regaining his breath. It was then he noticed something different about his oldest brother, despite he looked the same as when they’d all parted earlier there was something new about his attire._

_“What are these golden shackles you wear Cyrus? What have you given up to save our mother?” he inquired, pulling a chair up beside his brother._

_Cyrus closed his eyes, he was beginning to feel a certain amount of fear coming over him. There had been no other choice, and he knew after Ghadir had cured him of the disease there was no chance of leaving without some trade for his life, or another misfortune befalling him. Although he didn’t know what could be worse than watching his entire family die. “For all your lives, I gave up mine.”_

_Faarih wasn’t sure he understood, Cyrus was sitting beside him quite alive and well. He glanced at his brother’s wrists again as realization washed over him; he knew what those were now. “No, you did not trade away everything, tell me this is a joke,” he begged as he gripped his brother’s hands in his. He could feel how Cyrus was shaking slightly, either from the exertion of running back to the palace or the fear of what he’d done._

_“There was no other choice, he cured me of the disease right off to put me in his debt. We all were going to die of it, and he knew neither of you would succeed in your quests. That woman would never give you any of that flower, and there are no genies around here. Or at least there were no genies until now,” he answered, his voice wavering a little as he looked towards Faarih. There was fear in his eyes, he needed someone to assure him that it would all be for the best, that he hadn’t done something foolish._

_But before Faarih could speak, Raheem returned and said he’d done as he was asked. Cyrus thanked him, and rose from his chair. Quickly he tugged the sleeves of his shirt down to cover his binds, he did not want anyone else to see what he’d done just yet. He knew he’d have to tell their father before long, but for now he just longed to see their mother and make sure she drank the water that now held the cure that would save her life._

_And the lives of everyone else in the palace._

**********

This was the hard part of the story, and yet Pari managed to keep her emotions in check as she told Edwin and Millie of how her son had come to her bedside and given her the water with the elixir in it. She told them, in detail, of how Cyrus had glossed over the awful truth, to spare his mother any unneeded stress.

She could still remember the feel of the binds under her fingertips, as Cyrus told her simply he’d had to make a deal to cure her, and everyone. She could still hear the slight waver in his voice, and see the fear in his eyes as he spoke. He’d been afraid, and yet he was assured he’d done the right thing. She had longed to argue with him, but knew he was right. They all would have died, and she could understand his reasoning. But it didn’t soften the pain any knowing what he’d done.

“But, I thought he was going to marry Jasmyn and fall in love!” Millie protested, her eyes wide with disbelief. This wasn’t how a fairy tale ended, they always ended with a wedding and the phrase ‘happily ever after’, not with a prince or princess being turned into a slave.

Pari smiled sadly at the young girl, longing to tell her the curse had been broken and the happy ending came to pass. But that would be a lie, although she was sure Jasmyn had ended up with her happily ever after in the long run, there had been none for Cyrus.

Edwin noticed the woman’s distress, which made him wonder if this story wasn’t a personal one. Maybe she had changed details enough to make it more fanciful for Millie’s young ears, but he couldn’t help but entertain the idea she was telling a more imaginative tale of her own sons, who had possibly died as he knew Pari lived alone.

“Would you care for more tea?” he inquired, to which Pari nodded. He poured more of the dark amber drink into her cup, not bothering to ask if she wanted milk or sugar as he’d taken note she drank it without.

Pari thanked him, and took a small sip before asking if they wanted to hear the end of the tale or save it for another day. Much to her relief, they wanted the rest right then. Millie was a little more adamant, and she could tell the girl was fairly certain that somehow the curse would be broken and the prince would marry the princess. Then they would live happily ever after.

If only it had worked out that way. But at least the story would be finished, and when she went home she could shed a few tears again for all her children in peace.

**********

Will wasn’t sure what had Alice and Anastasia looking as if the world was ending. They were sitting in a lovely parlour having tea and biscuits, the windows were open and a breeze lightly scented with roses was wafting in, causing the curtains to billow slightly. They weren’t in Wonderland, really, wasn’t that all that mattered?

Of course he knew they were distressed about Cyrus, but there was nothing they could do now. Hopefully he’d escape and locate the White Rabbit, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but if he didn’t there wasn’t much to do for it. Anastasia still held two of her three wishes, and sadly the bottle was lost to them. He hazard to guess Jafar had that too, but still, the genie and his bottle were useless until Anastasia made her wishes.

But there was something more to their melancholy. He thought at first maybe it was just the woman he was referring to as a ‘hat pin’, but that wasn’t it. Sarah was being cordial to all three of them, even though it was more than obvious she didn’t know what to do with them. Somehow Anastasia had managed to charm her though, much to his amazement. But then, he should have expected that, she’d always been able to charm all she met.

“Look, I gotta ask, what is with the sad faces? There is nothing we can do from here and you never know, in another day or two you could find another way back to Wonderland. Like I said before, you seemed to be talented at falling down those bloody rabbit holes as a kid,” he stated, setting his teacup down on the saucer. He had set it right on the table at one point, only to receive a glare from both Sarah and Alice. Obviously tea was serious business in Victorian England, or they just really liked the finish on the table intact.

Anastasia glared at him, that dark curse had obviously affected his memory in a way. “Do you recall all the times we met Alice in Wonderland over the years? Each separately obviously, but do you recall how the years passed?”

Will shook his head, he hadn’t given it much thought really. But now that it had been brought up he was beginning to realize that the girl seemed to age at a rapid speed or hardly at all, and then he had to think back to his time in the Land Without Magic, how he spent 28 years there only to be dragged to Victorian England to find it had only been a year since he’d helped her escape Wonderland after Cyrus had fallen into the Boiling Sea. It had been much longer since he’d seen Anastasia, but time in Wonderland was strange and she’d hardly appeared to have aged more than a year or two since he’d last laid eyes on her.

“Sometimes when I found the rabbit hole it would only be days apart here, but years had passed in Wonderland, or the other way around,” Alice explained as she reached over to take another biscuit from the plate in the middle of the table. “For all we know it has been days since we left Wonderland, or only hours. It could possibly be weeks. There is no telling how long Cyrus has been left with Jafar now and what all he’s done to him.”

A frown came over Will, he’d clean forgotten the strange way time passed between realms. It was rather inconvenient, to say the very least. “But, he’s escaped before, Cyrus is anything if not resourceful. All he needs is to locate the White Rabbit after he gets away and have a hole dug for here. No harm done, well, other than Jafar will likely still have his bottle but two out of three isn’t half bad. He’ll be here, two wishes will be here, at least he’ll be safer here than in Wonderland.”

Sarah really was starting to feel like her head was spinning at this conversation. She’d think it was all nonsense, but now that Alice had two more people babbling on about this genie, and she’d seen Anastasia use a bit of magic, she couldn’t deny it. Well, she could if she wanted to, but it was hard to deny something she’d seen with her own eyes. The longer they spoke, the more she actually began to feel a pang of concern for the genie they’d left behind. She didn’t know much about those mythical beings, other than thee lived in lamps or bottles, but it was obvious he was important to them all in different ways, and she couldn’t help but feel some sort of empathy.

She picked up her teacup and took another long drink from it, wondering how on earth Alice had ever found this strange world of fancy to start with and how long it would take her to grieve for her lost love this time. The last time she’d thought him dead, which was horrible, but this time she knew he was still alive and at the mercy of a heartless man who wanted to use him. That, she thought, was far worse.

**********

The lack of natural light in the room made it difficult to tell the passage of time. At least in where the hanging cages were there was daylight which would trickle in at times. It wasn’t a lot of daylight, but it did help in guessing the time of day.

Cyrus was tired, and not just from being terrorized by the guards. He’d grown rather accustom to their mistreatment and had expected it. When he’d first escaped he had heard the one say down by the water that they wanted to make him bleed, and they’d accomplished that. But that wasn’t what was finally getting to him.

Of course he had become despondent after realizing there was no chance Alice would return for him, without the White Rabbit digging his hole she likely would not find another portal to Wonderland. The saddest part was if the rabbit did eventually get away, Cyrus knew the way time passed between realms was tricky. Sometimes it would coincide, but more often than not one realm would have time move quicker than the other. When Alice had told him she’d spent a year in an asylum after his supposed death, he’d wondered how long he’d been kept prisoner by Jafar and Anastasia.

He’d been unconscious through most of it, either by some spell cast by Jafar or the fact his mistress was separated from him by quite a distance. But then, he mused, it likely was a spell as now he was nowhere near his new mistress and was still awake.

Although he’d rather not be. When he fell into slumber he didn’t have to feel the ache that came with the poisoned water the guards had delighted at pouring down his throat every few hours. When they’d first approached him with the water he’d wondered what they’d done to it, as it was in a crude cup made of clay. There was no chance they were doing him a kindness.

But then as the water was forced into him, he instantly felt the burn of silver as well as salt. Jafar was going to keep him under control this time, by any means possible. And poisoning him was the perfect way of accomplishing that. With the salt and traces of silver in his system he would stay weakened, he had no idea if he’d recover or not as this had never happened before.

Cyrus was not one to give in easily, he still fought the guards with what strength he had, until he was spent. There was no chance he’d let anyone think him weak, and if they thought they were going to have a go at him then he’d get a few shots in first. And it was going well until the day they’d decided to bring along one of the things he feared.

It made sense Jafar would let them know one of his fears. His greatest fear was being put back in his bottle and forgotten for years on end, and it was worse now that he’d made friends and fallen in love. The last being the hardest, as he’d been told true love was what would set him free of his existence as a genie.

He’d fought his feelings for Alice, fearing she wouldn’t return his love but she had. As their relationship grew and their love for one another deepened he began to believe she would be the one to set him free, that one day her kiss would cause the shackles to fall away. But it never happened, and although it upset him he learned to accept it. It was possible Ghadir had lied, and given him false hope. It would be just like the man.

The guards, of course, couldn’t put him back in his bottle or kill Alice before his eyes, but they could bring a snake into the room to paralyze him with fear. They didn’t just stop there though; it would have to be a venomous snake. Cyrus knew he couldn’t die from the venom, but he didn’t welcome the idea of dealing with it along with the poison racing through his system from the water he’d discovered was being kept in a silver pitcher. Where Jafar had found one of those, he didn’t know, but he wished it had never been created. There didn’t need to be silver in the water to affect him, simply keeping it in such a container would taint it enough.

**********

Hadi walked down the corridor towards where Jafar had the genie confined, hating the thought of entering the room to once more fight him. They all took turns going in to make him drink the water, to get him to a point he could be put back in his cage without fear of him fighting and throwing someone else over the ledge.

They always left him to do this alone as well, something else that annoyed him. The rest were able to go in the room in pairs, one to restrain the genie while the other forced him to drink. He had the joy of going it alone, and the genie always fought him, be it weakly but he still gave it his best. A wry smile crossed Hadi’s face; he did have to admire that.

This was likely tasked to him to do alone because he was young, barely a man and the older men just wanted to terrorize him. He didn’t let them know he was angry over this, there was little point. Each evening when he went into the room for the past two weeks he simply hoped whatever the rest of the guards had done during the day had taken most of the fight out of the genie.

He nodded as the two older men took their leave, wondering about the strange looks on their faces. He’d heard whispers about getting something that would paralyze the prisoner with abject fear, a concept that he thought pointless as it was obvious each day the genie was weakening; soon they’d be able to put him back in his cage and be done with this.

When he entered the room he dropped the cup of water, it landing on the stone floor and shattering, when he heard the familiar hiss of a snake. He looked over to where he’d heard the sound, to find the genie laying on the floor, his eyes unfocused and he was taking in breaths at a rapid pace, obviously in a panic. Hadi’s eyes fell quickly on the snake coiled near the prisoner, he didn’t know which type it was but he did recognize the symptoms of a venomous snake bite.

Poisoning him through the water was one thing, but this was another form of cruelty. He knew Jafar had said to use snakes to scare him, not to further poison him. They all knew he was hard to kill, but there was no point in torturing him more than needed.

He pulled out the sword he kept at his side and made short work of the snake, its bite may not kill the genie but it would him. Once that was taken care of, he went over and knelt beside the prisoner, trying to get his attention.

“This is not good,” he muttered, shaking the genie to see if he could bring him out of his panic. He searched his mind for a name; he knew the prisoner had a name. “Cyrus, look at me.”

Cyrus started when he heard his name, and slowly opened his eyes. He was so tired, and in so much pain. The venom burned more than the silver or salt ever could, and he just wanted it to stop. In his pain induced haze he couldn’t fully recall where he was or who was with him, but something about the young man felt familiar, and sadly his foggy mind didn’t realize it was one of the guards. It had taken him further back in memories.

“Raheem? How did you find me?” he asked, his voice tight with pain. “Please, find mama and baba, tell them to find a healer.”

Hadi felt his mouth open slightly in surprise. He’d always thought genies just were, they sprang into existence as they were, and they had no past history. But this contradicted that, the prisoner, or Cyrus rather, had mistaken him for someone who had been important to him at one time. Not to mention the rather affectionate terms he used to speak of his mother and father. “Excuse me?” he prompted, he knew he should take him to Jafar but he had to get a bit more information first. “I didn’t know you were lost.”

Cyrus choked a bit, he felt so ill but there was nothing in him to get rid of that pain, and heaving was pointless. All it did was hurt more. “How you brag to all in the court of your scholarly endeavours and how intelligent you are, yet you have forgotten the horrible price paid for all your lives. How did you find me? You must keep my bottle safe brother; there are horrible people in the world.”

Suddenly Cyrus felt the silver shackle loosened until it was removed from his wrist, and felt himself being lifted slowly from the ground. He made himself walk, although he didn’t understand why Raheem didn’t bring their parents to him. He supposed there was a reason, and maybe walking would help with the pain. But he doubted it.

Hadi was conflicted; he had to take Cyrus to Jafar. He’d be able to conjure up something to counteract the venom, yet the genie had somehow concluded he’d been found by his brother. If he was lucky, Cyrus would pass out before he found Jafar, at least then he wouldn’t think he was being betrayed by family.

**********  
 _  
Cyrus looked down to the floor, trying his best to not give way to his emotions as his father shouted at him. Why could he not understand he’d done all this for them? With Nadira’s death still so fresh in all their memories he could not stand by and watch as their mother succumbed to the same fate. It was one life in exchange for so many, why wouldn’t he listen?_

_As his father carried on, he tried once or twice to break in, only to realize there wasn’t much point. He wanted his father to know he’d mainly done it for him, he knew if their mother died he would never be the same. Of course his brothers played into this as well, he could tell the impending death of their mother weighed heavy on them, the fact Faarih had pretty well given up pranks since Nadira’s death was proof enough he was affected by it all. Raheem simply withdrew further into his books, they were his sole escape from the pain that their reality had become. It was more than obvious with the way Naseem was speaking that he thought this was all in a bid to get out of his own responsibilities, and it pained him their father thought that way. He’d had every intention of marrying Jasmyn and doing as was expected to him._

_Now, that was obviously out of the question. Although, he mused, it would have been anyway as he had been dying._

_He began to run his right hand up and down his left arm, as was a nervous habit of his and stopped short when he felt the golden shackles that would forever bind him to the bottle that would very soon become his prison and sole respite from the race he once counted himself among. Pari was almost recovered, which meant his days with his family were very soon to come to an end._

_“What were you thinking Cyrus? Did you think of anyone but yourself on this little quest? I am well aware you and your brothers were trying to find a way to cure your mother, but did you think it might have made more sense to see to healers and books, rather than some deal with a sorcerer? Do you even think of anyone but yourself?” Naseem shouted, causing both Raheem and Faarih to shudder a bit at the tone of his voice._

_They’d all been at the wrong end of their father’s wrath, but this was the first time they’d ever heard him raise his voice to such a timbre with his oldest, and heir. Naseem was obviously restraining himself and they now understood where that bruise came from that Cyrus had been sporting awhile back._

_Faarih, despite being the youngest now, glanced over and instantly noticed his oldest brother was fighting back some form of emotional distress. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind, and he still couldn’t fathom why he had gone through with the deal with Ghadir. There could have been another way, there was always another way. But it was too late now, and he could only stand by and try to figure out why he’d done this. Maybe he feared their mother’s death would tear the family apart, as Nadira’s passing had put a dark cloud over all of them, and one that would never completely leave them. Of course there was the fact the disease had already claimed many in the palace and finally had begun to infect the royal family. Cyrus had said it was only one life, it was better this way, but still. He was their brother, and it still pained him to see the choice he’d made._

_He turned his attention for a few brief moments to Raheem, who was standing next to him. He had expected to see something of a satisfied gleam in his brother’s eyes, as he’d listened to Raheem tell him many times he’d be a better Shah than their oldest brother as he would not stray from any of the traditions. Faarih had wondered what exactly he was getting at with that, the only one Cyrus was against was the arranged marriage and the idea of mistresses._

_Everyone took him for a child set more on pranks and getting his siblings into some form of trouble or other, but he was observant. Raheem would be a good Shah, with a lot of guidance, but he was more interested in the glory. He seemed resentful of being in Cyrus’ shadow, which he wasn’t in at all. It always surprised him that Raheem didn’t realize that, and that they had far more freedom then their older brother ever had._

_“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Naseem demanded, pulling Faarih out of his thoughts, turning all his attention back towards his father and oldest brother._

_Naseem was far from calm, he rarely allowed anger to cloud his judgement or words, but at that moment as he looked at his oldest son who stood before him with his head bowed, and those golden binds firmly secured to his wrist, he could not help his rage. Death came to them all in due time, what did Cyrus think he would accomplish?_

_“Please father, I did not do this to anger you or anyone else. Mother means everything to me and I know she is the whole world to you as well as my younger brothers. She is the one who advises you, who helps you with all the daily trials of ruling our kingdom. Without her you would be less than whole, and I could not see that happen after watching how Nadira’s death stole a certain touch of light from your eyes._

_“She keeps Faarih in line, and tried to bring Raheem out of his books and into court life. If it were not for her steady hand Faarih would be worse with his tricks, you know that as well as anyone else, and Raheem would never leave his books if not for her. She brings so much to everyone; I could not allow her to die. Please father, forgive me,” he explained, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. He did want to point out he’d been sick with the disease, and it was only time before they all were infected with it, but he knew there was little point. His father was beyond reason, and arguing would only intensify his anger._

_Naseem just glared at Cyrus, who once more ducked his head in his strange way of trying to hide from people. He’d always done that since he was a little boy, thinking if he couldn’t see the person who was angry with him then maybe they wouldn’t stay in that state. “You have disappointed me Cyrus,” he sadly said, sighing._

_“I’m sorry father,” Cyrus answered, trying hard to keep his emotions in check. It wasn’t exactly proper for the crown prince to give in to emotion in public, and he was fairly certain a genie was to be void of anything that resembled a trait that could make them appear human._

_“This is unforgivable Cyrus,” Naseem stated, keeping his voice void of any emotions. On the outside he was calm and collected, inside he was a mix of fury and distress. His oldest son was soon to be taken from him, forever. And not by death, he feared what the future held for him and he knew he couldn’t protect him from his fate either._

_Cyrus struggled to suppress a sob, he knew his father would be angry but he couldn’t stand the idea he’d soon be drawn into that bottle knowing his father would never forgive him. There was nothing he could do to make up for what he’d done; there were no words to say. He couldn’t even promise him wishes; there was nothing to make amends for this. When his father spoke words like that, and he’d heard them many times spoken towards other people in the court, they were final. His father would never forgive him and he’d have to carry that memory with him for all eternity._

_He vaguely heard his father order him to leave the room, but he couldn’t physically move. The tears he was trying to hold back began to fall, and his legs gave out beneath him as he sobbed. He didn’t care there were other people in the room; he knew the servants wouldn’t run off to tell tales. They valued their positions too much, and as wonderful a story as this would be to tell he was well aware they did like him and would never tell of this._

_Faarih watched as his oldest brother collapsed to the floor, shaking with his pent up emotions and gasping for air between his nearly silent sobs. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see both their father and Raheem standing by, watching as Cyrus broke down emotionally. Could they not see he was terrified?_

_He quickly ran over to his brother, and fell down beside him to wrap his arms around him. Cyrus lifted himself up from his crouched position enough to hold him close as the tears fell. It grieved Faarih to see his brother like this, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do to change what was coming, all he could do was be there for his brother in that moment._

_“Be brave, Cyrus, you’ve always been the strong one,” he softly said, still shocked by his brother’s tears. Cyrus never cried, not that he’d seen, not even during Nadira’s service. But now he was openly crying, he didn’t care who saw him or what people thought; he was afraid and all he wanted was someone to comfort him._

_“I’m so scared,” Cyrus whispered, holding Faarih tightly as his tears continued to fall._

_He noticed a shadow fall over them and lifted his eyes to see their father looking down at them. Cyrus was desperate for his father to forgive him, he couldn’t live an eternity with the man’s hate keeping him company. He reached out and grabbed hold of the hem of his father’s shirt, and looked up at him with imploring eyes. “Baba, please, I’m frightened,” he pleaded as fresh tears over took him._

_Naseem wanted to stay angry, he wanted Cyrus to remember his anger when he was finally imprisoned in his bottle, as there was no way else to think of it. His son was a genie now, not the crown prince. He was anything if not a stubborn man, and even the use of the term ‘baba’ could not sway him. He’d not heard Cyrus use that term of endearment since he was a small boy, but he would not be swayed in his anger by the memories that simple term could evoke. He was the Shah and he would not allow sentiment to rule him._

_He reached down and pulled Cyrus’ hand away, pushing him away, although it was hard with Faarih there holding his brother. He looked coolly into his oldest son’s tear glazed eyes, burying his own pain at what was happening. “No Cyrus, this is unforgivable. You didn’t give a thought to anyone but yourself. Know that you have disappointed your father, and you shall live with that shame and burden for eternity. I will only have a handful of years left to live with this sorrow, but it is now your curse to hold the memory of this moment until time ends.”_

_With that said Naseem walked out of the room and didn’t look back, even when he heard Cyrus’ sobs intensify. So far as he was concerned, Cyrus was now dead to him and he would treat him as such until he was drawn into his bottle._

_And then he would mourn._

_**********_

_Pari was beside herself when one of her handmaidens brought her the news, as per Princess Jasmyn’s request. She was more than well enough to have been up and about, but felt it best to leave her husband to deal with their sons. Obviously she’d been wrong in that assumption as Naseem had all but disowned their oldest, and over a decision made in haste._

_She knew Cyrus, she knew at times he was rash but she was aware he didn’t give up his life in a spur of the moment decision. Everyone knew he was stressed, the entire court knew he hated the life that awaited him, and that he’d gladly give it up given the opportunity, but he wouldn’t have traded it for the life he now was facing._

_Cyrus loved his family, possibly too much, and he would do anything for them. That included sacrificing himself for their happiness. He obviously didn’t realize what he’d done would only serve to grieve them more, but he did have a habit of forgetting about himself in the equation at times._

_She quickly walked down the hall towards her oldest son’s rooms, in hope he was there. She’d been horrified when her handmaiden had told her that Naseem had ordered Cyrus be removed from the palace grounds, he was simply to be tossed aside as if he was nothing. She was even more shocked when he had simply started making plans for Raheem’s education to become Shah; it was as though Cyrus had never existed._

_When she entered the room she breathed a sigh of relief to see Cyrus sitting alone, writing. It was very late and she knew Raheem and Faarih would be in bed by this hour. No one would dare anger Naseem after his tirade earlier, and the next morning Raheem was to begin his training and lessons._

_But Cyrus was not asleep, although he looked as though he could use a few days rest. She walked over to him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder as she kneeled on the floor next to where he was sitting. “Cyrus, I want to thank you once more for what you’ve done,” she softly said._

_He glanced towards her, a sad smile ghosting over his face. At least his mother didn’t seem to hate him, but there was still time for her to change her opinion. Sadly though, he could start to feel a strange pull and he knew it meant he would soon be trapped inside his bottle. He’d begun to feel it when his brothers and Jasmyn were with him earlier after the scene with Naseem, that was why he’d awoken from the sleep that had overtaken him. He was certain this was his last night in his home, and he was glad his mother had come to see him._

_“Are you not angry at me now that you’ve recovered, and had time to think of what a foolish thing I have done? Do you wish to yell at me now, call me selfish, say you’ll never forgive me so I can live with that for all eternity as my last memory of you?” he asked, trying to keep himself from crying again. He normally did not shed tears but in the last few days he could not help it, he was terrified of what was soon going to happen._

_Pari took his face in both her hands and pulled him over to kiss his forehead. “No, my son, I’m not angry at you nor will I tell you I hate you. Your father is being a fool and allowing his anger to rule him. I know the last few years you’ve both had a strained relationship, but given time he will retract all he said to you,” she assured him, smiling warmly._

_Cyrus nodded, he didn’t have time. “He told me I was selfish and only thought of myself.”_

_“Cyrus, I can tell you did all this out of love, it is more than obvious,” Pari said, sitting next to him on the couch and wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him close._

_He rested his head on her shoulder, overjoyed his final moments with his mother wouldn’t be filled with hatred and pain for them both. “How do you know this?” he inquired, a touch surprised. He had told his brothers and Jasmyn why he’d traded his mortal life for those vials, and had longed to explain to his father but he’d said nothing to her, only given her a shortened version of it all._

_“When you really love someone, Cyrus, you don’t need proof, you can feel it. I have always been able to feel how much you love us all, you’ve never had to prove it to anyone. It is in every smile, every word you say. Even when you’ve lashed out at someone in anger or done something foolish, it is obvious you don’t hate the person you were verbally attacking. You’ve always been ruled by your emotions, your father saw it as a downfall but I always saw it as your strength,” she told him._

_He glanced up to look at her, glad to see she was smiling. At least his last memory of her would be happy. “i don’t want to go, I’m scared. I don’t want to be seen as nothing more than an object, a possession to be tossed aside when I’ve served my purpose,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he felt her hug him closer._

_“Don’t be afraid, it is going to be a lonely existence but I believe you will one day find someone who will once more see you as the person you truly are, and not just a genie. Just remember who you are, never forget where you came from and you will be fine. And keep this with you,” she said, placing a compass in one of his hands. “It will always point you towards me, always remember there is one person out there who loves you and I will try to find you again.”_

_Cyrus opened his eyes, and looked curiously at the compass, no matter how he positioned it the needle always pointed towards his mother. It brought him a small measure of comfort._

_No more words were spoken; they sat in comfortable silence simply enjoying each other’s company. Pari buried her sorrow, but promised the next morning she’d take Cyrus to Naseem and make her husband see the error of his ways. She could feel her son’s distress over his father’s harsh words, and she could not bear the idea that he was destined to live an eternity convinced his father hated him._

_For now she would stay with him and make certain he knew that what he’d done was appreciated, and she promised him once more before falling asleep with him held close, that she’d one day find him again._

_And yet, come the morning’s light, Pari woke up alone with only a hint of her son’s warmth left from where he’d fallen asleep in her arms._

**********

Edwin handed Millie another piece of cake, anything to keep her from possibly sobbing too loudly in the tearoom. He’d had a feeling the story was going to end poorly, and he was right.

For a young girl like his daughter, the tale was nothing but sorrow as she’d expected a wedding in the end like all fairy tales. He’d known part way through that wasn’t going to happen, and he had to admit he could understand why the oldest prince had done what he had.

He regretted his treatment of Alice, and quite frankly he was sorry she’d wasted a wish on him in Wonderland. He wasn’t worth it, she should have held on to it as it would be one more between that wicked sorcerer having hold over the genie she loved. It struck him as rather ironic the story they’d been hearing over the past few days had ended with the prince being turned into a genie.

“Did she ever find her son again?” he finally inquired, picking up his teacup to finish the last of the warm drink before having to take his distraught daughter home. Hopefully there was some happiness in the end, something to brighten Millie’s mood.

Pari reached up to tug some of her long, black hair behind her ear, sadly shaking her head. “No, she did not. Although some tell that she found a powerful man of magic to teach her spells to extend her youth and life, in a bid to find her lost son once more. Some say she lives still, in constant hope that one day his bottle would come to her and she could be with him again so long as she removed the world wish from her vocabulary.”

That seemed to lighten Millie’s spirit a touch, a bit of a smile graced her face as she swallowed the last mouthful of her cake. At least she could return home, and pretend that the mother found her son once more, and give them the happy ending they deserved, even if it was in her imagination.

**********

Sarah was nearly beside herself when she finally heard the front door open. It wasn’t that she was tired of the company she had, she actually found Anastasia interesting to speak with, and even Alice wasn’t as bad as she once thought. Now that she knew the stories were real, and she’d realized her own mistakes in her treatment of her husband’s daughter, she could make an effort in mending the bridges she’d burned with the young woman. She knew it would take time, but she was willing to try if Alice was.

Will, on the other hand, she had no use for him. He was brash, bold and she found him rather uncouth. But, she would endure his talk and mannerisms for Alice and Anastasia, although she could hardly wait to be out of his company.

When Millie came dashing into the room, they were all caught off guard. The young girl stopped just inside the door way, taking in all the people, three in rather odd dress. Her eyes lit up when she saw Alice, and she quickly ran to her sister, wrapping her arms around her as she buried her face against her shoulder.

Sarah looked sharply at Edwin when he came into the room, not allowing him time to process they had company. “Whatever did you do to Millie?”

He looked to his wife, then to the others in the room, his face brightening considerably when he saw Alice. He walked over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder as he smiled warmly at her. “Alice, you’re home. I feared I would never see you again,” he softly said, his eyes stinging with tears of joy.

Alice wanted to hug her father, but couldn’t with Millie still latched on to her as if her life depended on it. “I am father, I’m home for good this time.” And sadly, she meant it. There was no way back to Wonderland, after the long discussion they’d had over tea she realized this time that Cyrus was lost to her.

She would always try to find a way back, but she feared it was not meant to be this time around.

Anastasia took that moment to stand and excuse herself from the room, nodding for Will to come with her. This was more of a family moment, and they had no place in it.

She walked into the hall, half expecting for Will to refuse to come along as he still seemed to have a great distrust for her, but much to her surprise he was a step or two behind her when she stopped part way down the hall in a bid to give the family some privacy in their conversation.

“Well, this is a lovely mess we’ve got,” Will stated, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning up against the wall. He directed his gaze towards the ceiling in an effort to ignore the blonde next to him and the feelings she stirred inside. He would not fall for her again, she’d betrayed him in the past and even though this was not Wonderland it didn’t mean she couldn’t find someone of higher status than he in England as well.

Anastasia glanced down, nodding in agreement. “And it is only getting worse.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her questioningly, tilting his head slightly at that comment. “Unless we’re about to be tossed on the streets, I can’t see how this could get any worse. I’m sure we could both get on just fine, we’ve both always been resourceful but this can’t get much worse.”

“The compass, it is no longer spinning,” she whispered, pulling it out of the pocket she had it in. She handed it to Will, who took it and looked it over appreciatively. He’d not seen it up close until that moment, and couldn’t believe it was made of pure gold. Although, he mused, he shouldn’t be too shocked. Cyrus was a prince after all.

“His mother is in England?” he asked, eyes going wide. This was completely unbelievable, and rather tragic at the same time. Maybe they should have tried harder to bring the genie with them. Although he had no idea how they would have, Jafar would have found some way to cause them injury, or even kill them.

She nodded, a frown coming over her face. Will felt a pang in his chest, he hated to see her unhappy, even after all this time and everything they’d gone through. “We have to find her, maybe she can help me find a way back to save her son.”

Will’s attention snapped from the compass to Anastasia at that. First, they had no idea if the woman was alive, it could end up pointing them to a grave. And second, there was no way back to Wonderland, that they knew of at any rate. If they were to return, it would be by complete luck and chance, not by design.

And then it struck him that she was only referring to herself returning to Wonderland to find Cyrus. “Okay, first you think we’re going to find this woman, who by the way is likely hundreds of years old no matter how you work your head around non lineal movement of time, and you fancy she’s going to have some magical portal or some such thing back to Wonderland? Honestly, that is likely the craziest thing I’ve heard in awhile, and believe me, I’ve heard some crazy things. Likely said a lot of them too, come to think of it,” he muttered.

She reached over and snatched the compass back out of his hands. “Cyrus spoke to you about the Enchanted Forest, didn’t he?” she inquired, to which Will nodded. “Well, I don’t know how educated you were growing up, but my mother made sure my sister and I were educated in many things. From etiquette to history of the courts of many kingdoms, not just the ones near us. When Cyrus told me his story, I started to realize I knew it. Not intimately, but a vague overview of a prince who was turned into a genie. He is more than simply a few hundred years old, trust me. But he’s from a different kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, far across the ocean and one we’d never have visited if we’d stayed. To him, where we lived was a story book of tales, somewhere he dreamed of visiting even though he knew he never could.”

“Fine, but I don’t see how this is going to help any in getting back to Wonderland. I kind of guessed he was from another kingdom in our realm after he asked me about it. He looked almost heartbroken when I explained the curse to him, but that isn’t really important. How do you figure finding his mother is going to get any of us back to Wonderland?” Will asked, not sure how any of this was making sense.

“She’s still alive. You’re thinking this is pointing to her final resting place, but wouldn’t that be in our realm, not England? She’s alive, I can feel magic here and it shouldn’t be. If she has powerful enough magic, she might have a way back,” Anastasia explained, smiling.

“But why you? Shouldn’t Alice go, or even myself?” Will really didn’t understand why she was in the mind set it was she who should go to rescue Cyrus, after everything she’d done it didn’t seem right.

Anastasia sighed, putting the compass back in her pocket. “It is simple, darling, this isn’t just to make amends but who is going to know Jafar’s palace better than I? Out of the three of us, I’m the only one who has been inside of it, and as I have the ability to use magic, I have a higher chance of getting in and out with Cyrus than you or Alice.”

“Well then, I can’t argue that logic,” Will agreed, there was no argument to be made to that. Now all they needed was a way back to Wonderland, if that was even possible.

Edwin was grateful the man he remembered as Will and the blonde woman had left the room. It wasn’t that he had any secrets he felt had to be kept from them, but this was more of a family moment in his eyes. Not to mention Millie was on the verge of an emotional breakdown due to Pari’s tale, and Sarah was looking at him with a murderous glare for whatever he’d done to distress the daughter they shared.

“But what of your genie?” he inquired, furrowing his brow. She had done nothing but speak of him upon her last return, had she given up on him? Or had the genie turned on her?

Alice looked away, chewing slightly on her bottom lip. “We can’t return to Wonderland, as we were attempting to escape we were ambushed by Jafar and he captured Cyrus. There is no telling what he is doing to him, or even how long he’s had him as time never flows the same between realms. I hope to return to rescue him, but unless the White Rabbit made it away safely the way is lost to us.”

Millie looked up at the name, her eyes gleaming slightly with unshed tears and a bit of surprise. But she kept her silence. It was likely just a strange chance that the prince who was turned into a genie in Pari’s story shared the same name as the genie Alice was in love with.

Fairy tales weren’t real, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bloody computer died, I'm working on a laptop that can be a bit of a headache so I'm hoping the next chapter comes as expected. Hard to say, but I'm going to try.
> 
> Will there still be an interest in OUATIW fanfics with all considered? I'm rather upset they're not giving the show another chance, I knew it wouldn't be set in Wonderland next time around, but as they've taken forever to do anything with Cyrus it feels as though they've done the character (as well as the actor) such a disservice. It just angers me they know where they went wrong, so why not fix it before giving up? We certainly do not need more reality TV trash.
> 
> I'm looking forward to the episode this Thursday, but at the same time not as then it is over. And I love this show so much, far more than the original. It just seems like nothing good can last these days. But either way, I hope there will still be interest in stories in this fandom, as I know I'm nowhere done writing these characters.
> 
> As well, sorry if there are any typos or grammar mistakes in this chapter, it was 30 pages in Word. :/


	8. Something Found.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah takes Alice and Anastasia to be measured and fitted for dresses a little more appropriate for Victorian England, and while there they meet someone rather unexpected.
> 
> In Wonderland, after Jafar cures Cyrus of the snake venom he is put back in a silver cage. It is then, through a story Aamir tells him to pass the time, that he finally realizes exactly what it is the sorcerer wants from the other prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.
> 
> I'm posting a day early as I'm not sure if I'll have time tomorrow. Life became unexpectedly hectic in the last 24 hours. I also hope Jafar isn't OOC...he's really, really hard to write.

Tossing the two guards into the abyss below the hanging cages in the dungeon seemed to be too easy a punishment, but Jafar had been in a complete rage when the genie had been brought to him suffering from a venomous snake bite. His cool and eerily calm fury transformed into irrational anger and he’d done the first thing that had come to mind. And that was not normal for a man who thought out every step, and then made a backup plan on the off chance it was needed. Not that it usually was.

He’d have preferred a long, drawn out demise dealt to the fools for being so careless with the prisoner, something in which he could watch the life slowly drain from their panic stricken eyes, but sadly he’d been so infuriated he’d simply sought them out and done the first thing that had come to mind.

Although, he mused, falling to one’s death likely wasn’t overly pleasant either. But he still hated doing things in a rash manner.

A soft moan close by told him the genie was starting to wake again, meaning it was time for another dose of the potion to counteract the venom. He had to be careful of administering too much of it, although it was meant for the venom, there was a slim chance it could work on clearing the silver and salt out of his system as well, and that would be problematic. He hadn’t spent endless weeks ensuring Cyrus was being weakened enough that he would not be able to escape again for it all to be ruined in the process of curing him of snake venom.

Jafar was a cruel and sadistic man, but he didn’t see the point to unneeded suffering either, unless it was the suffering of someone he felt deserved it. Yes, Cyrus was quite the thorn in his side but he felt the venom was a type of agony the genie didn’t deserve. He was fairly certain once he had everything in place for the spell there was a high chance he’d be feeling far worse.

To ensure the potion wouldn’t have an undesirable healing property, he had actually added salt into the potion, and kept it in the silver pitcher meant for Cyrus’ water. He wasn’t taking any chances, past experiences in underestimating the genie had proven detrimental to his goal. There was no room for mistakes this time, he was certain he had come very close to a spell to severe Cyrus’ will from his new mistress, and there was no chance he was going to allow anything to come between him and his desires now.

Cyrus felt someone lifting him slightly from where he was laying on the floor, and press the edge of a cup to his lips. His hazy mind was still trying to discern what was going on, he thought he’d seen one of his brothers but knew that was not possible now. Yet, who was administering something to cure him of the venom?

The burn of salt and silver quickly tore through him, and he struggled to push away the person who was causing him the pain with no avail. No matter how often he moved his hands towards the person and weakly pushed at them, they refused to move. When the cup was moved away and he swallowed the liquid down, he fought to find his voice amid the pain.

“Why are you hurting me, what have I done to you?” he softly asked, struggling to open his eyes. He was still exhausted, and he really didn’t want to see where he was. Despite the pain being inflicted upon him, he would rather pretend it was possible his brother had found him and he was safe with his family. It did take some of the edge off.

“You exist, that is enough reason to cause you pain. You do everything you can to thwart my plans, genie, I don’t feel a need to continue on with that line of thought,” a voice snapped, pulling Cyrus back to reality fast.

His eyes quickly snapped open and he found himself in closer quarters with the sorcerer than he’d ever wanted to be in his life. Of all the people administering a healing potion, this was the last person he would have considered. If he had the strength he’d try to get away, yet again, but he had none.

Jafar let Cyrus fall back onto the cushions he’d laid the genie on, moving back towards his books. He knew there was a spell that would serve the purpose he had in the pages of one of the dusty old tomes he had left forgotten over the years, he just had to locate it. And the sooner it was found, the better.

As he studied the books, Cyrus watched him with slight interest. He still had no idea what exactly Jafar wanted him for, stealing a genie’s magic seemed absolutely pointless. Yes, it was powerful but it had its limits, surely Jafar realized that. Cyrus had his doubts it would be any different if it were the sorcerer trying to use it, his magic was solely for the purpose of serving another, never for himself.

But then, he reflected as he watched Jafar reading through the old book, it wasn’t his magic he desired to steal so much as control. But even that made no sense to him either; the man had a lot of power of his own, surely having the control of a genie’s magic wouldn’t enhance his own power by much.

“You have a wish, long buried and one that cannot be granted,” he observed, his eyes widening a touch as he realized what it could be that Jafar was after. Even then, it made little sense. No matter if he held the magic or the sorcerer, it was still bound by the laws of magic.

Jafar turned from his book, annoyed Cyrus had interrupted him. “That is none of your concern, genie,” he growled, resisting the urge to use a spell to silence him. He didn’t need this distraction.

Cyrus turned his face away from Jafar, not longing to see the man before him. If he closed his eyes and pretended, he could almost imagine himself at home in his father’s palace in a time long forgotten. Even though there were moments those memories hurt to think about, they were far more desirable to entertain than worry about his current predicament.

Or he could think of Alice, but those memories were still so new that they hurt far more. With his family he knew there was no chance of seeing them again, making the pain a little less. With Alice, he knew she was out there still and it hurt far too much to think he may never see her again.

He could tell the venom was no longer bothering him, as the panic and nausea was gone. He still felt sick, but it was one that had become familiar for the past few weeks during his captivity. Next would be that silver cage, and if he knew Jafar at all, there would be something new about it to keep him contained. Not that he could even attempt another escape like the last one in his current condition.

He may want freedom, and to find a way back to Alice, but he had no desire to fall into the seemingly never ending chasm below the hanging cages.

**********

Anastasia tried to hide her excitement, but it was hard. She should be a little more serious, with all consideration given. Their friend was still trapped in Wonderland, and if she even knew Jafar even slightly, she could only imagine what he was doing to Cyrus. The sorcerer had told her once of a genie’s weaknesses and after the last escape it was a foregone conclusion that he was using those against Cyrus.

It pained her to think they’d been in England a few days, but for Cyrus the time since he was captured again could be a few hours, weeks, months or even years. There was no way to guess how long it had been, and if a way back to Wonderland was found, there was no telling what condition the genie would be in.

She was assured in the fact she still held her last two wishes, at least those kept Cyrus from being owned by Jafar, although she was sure that was little comfort to the genie at this time. In all truth, it was little comfort to any of them.

She tried to push those thoughts from her mind best she could, and focus on the scenery outside the carriage window. Sarah had decided they had to go to town for new clothes, as their outlandish outfits just would not do, and Anastasia was more than willing to be measured and fitted for pretty new things.

Glancing at Alice, she could tell even she was a touch excited at the thought of new dresses. Despite her fear for her love, she was trying to focus on other things as well, which Anastasia could understand. If you didn’t, you would go mad. Focusing on other things was healthy, it didn’t mean she wasn’t worried for Cyrus and longed to find a way to go back for him, but she did have to take some time to think about something less distressing as well. Even if they were frivolous.

Will on the other hand, well, he was being a bit of a pain. Edwin was taking him to be fitting for new clothes as well, and he wasn’t overly thrilled. He swore up and down there was nothing wrong with what he had on, even when it was pointed out he was going to stick out in society wearing an outfit that obviously didn’t belong. That was leaving out, of course, it might need to be washed once in awhile.

Thankfully Edwin had decided on taking Will the next day, as he’d kicked up a bit of a fuss over the idea of new clothes. Anastasia could tell he was somehow holding out hope they’d discover a way to Storybrooke, where all his clothes were and he wouldn’t have to get anything fitted for himself in Victorian England.

Anastasia longed for him to realize this was likely their home realm now, at least for awhile. If she was right about Cyrus’ mother being alive, as she could feel just a tinge of magic in this world, there was always a chance they could leave. But if that were so, the top priority was Cyrus, not Will’s wardrobe.

“I assume you like the colour red,” Sarah observed, breaking the silence in the carriage. They’d been traveling for quite some time without conversation, and although it didn’t bother her much, as they were finally in town and on their way to the dress maker, it seemed about time to start conversing on some topic or other.

“Over time, yes, it has become a favourite of mine. I also am rather fond of the colour pink, although both together are not a very fetching combination,” Anastasia answered, earning herself a grin from both Sarah and Alice.

“Yours’ is still blue, I assume?” Sarah wanted to mend the bridges she’d burned with Alice, she still could not understand the girl but she knew it would be easier for all concerned in the house if she at least tried. It seemed Alice was more than willing to try again, and as Millie was becoming rather attached to her older sister Sarah felt it only right she try to forge some type of relationship with her.

Alice nodded. “Yes, I do rather like the colour blue still.” She wasn’t going to admit she was keen on shades of gold, brown and even burgundy, as those only reminded her of Cyrus. Warm tones would always cause her mind to wander in memories of him, and at the moment they pained her.

That morning, after breakfast, Anastasia had pulled her aside to explain what had happened upon their arrival. At first she’d been angry at the former Red Queen for keeping it from her, but then realized it would have only hurt her more to know that the woman they were seeking was in England. It still pained her, but it wasn’t as crushing as it would have been upon the day of their return.

**********

Pari glanced up from her work when the door opened, wondering who it could be. It was still rather early in the morning, and most people came to pick up their dresses and other items in the afternoon. A bit of a groan became lost in her throat when she saw Sarah Chattoway walking in, she should have remembered the woman was one of the very few that would pop in before noon.

Much to her surprise though, she didn’t see Millie. Just two young women who came in behind her, both dressed rather oddly. The one she was positive was Alice Chattoway, there wasn’t much in her features that looked like her father, but enough was there to inform Pari of who she likely was.

The other woman she had no idea and couldn’t even hazard a guess. She wasn’t related to either woman, she actually had the air of a queen about her. That was something Pari recognized instantly, having been royalty in a time long forgotten herself, in a realm she would never return to.

Either way, it was obvious enough they were looking to have dresses made, as what they were wearing certainly wouldn’t be considered suitable dress for a proper young lady, despite Pari was convinced no one would want to speak one word again either of them. The few stories she had heard about Alice gave her the impression she could easily wound one with her words, and she could feel a strange aura coming off the other woman.

If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was magic.

“Pari, these two young woman need to be fitted for dresses. Are you free to do that or should I?” Mrs. Slater called over, to which she answered she would be more than happy to take their measurements and see what they had in mind.

As Alice was being measured, Anastasia sat to the side and observed the proceedings. She, as well as Alice, had been eyeing the older woman curiously. It wasn’t that she seemed out of place, or that they distrusted her, but she seemed familiar to them. Anastasia wondered about her the most, she almost seemed regal in just her movements, and how she held herself. It was strange to see in someone like that working in a dress shop.

Once Alice’s measurements had been taken, it was her turn. She walked over and stepped up onto a low stool as she removed her riding cloak to hand to Alice. In doing so, the compass fell out of a small pocket on the inside, tumbling to the ground and rolling towards the dress maker.

Before either could retrieve it, Pari picked it up. Her brown eyes went wide at the sight of it, hundreds upon hundreds of years had passed for her since she’d last seen the compass, but she knew it well. She could still see the look in her son’s eyes as he watched the needle constantly point towards her, no matter how he positioned it. This was one item she’d never expected to see again, at least not without its owner.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, her voice soft as she turned it over in her slender hands. For her son, it pointed to her. Yet for her, it began to spin in a constant circle, stopping for a split second to change its course but never staying in one place. How could the compass have come to England but not the owner?

Glancing towards the two young women, she could tell they were trying to decide how to answer her question. Alice bit her bottom lip slightly, looking towards the other woman, who had simply introduced herself as Anastasia, both trying to form some story or other. Instead of allowing them to come up with a tale to cover where they’d found it, as they could be assuming she thought it something else, she decided to let them in on the little secret. “Where is Cyrus? It won’t point me to him, where is my son?”

**********

Aamir didn’t make a sound, or so much as move, until the guards who had dropped Cyrus in his silver cage had left them. He had wondered how long before his companion, as there was no other way to look at it, would be returned to the dungeon. It had taken longer than he’d thought, but he’d been hearing tales of how Cyrus fought them constantly, which gave him quite the bit of amusement.

Although one glance at the genie told him the fight was gone now. He’d heard talk of ways to poison Cyrus, and obviously they’d done it. There was no chance he’d be staging another daring escape, not in the shape he was in.

“Are you alright my friend?” he called down to the genie, not even sure if he was awake or not. He had seemed to be out of it when he was brought in, but he knew Cyrus also had a talent for playing tricks on the guards as well. Stories he’d heard growing up always stated that genies were known for tricks, although he’d thought it meant twisting the words of their master to distort a wish, but it seemed in Cyrus’ case he just enjoyed allowing people to underestimate him.

Slight movement told him that Cyrus was actually conscious, or closer to that then not. He wasn’t expecting much more than that in truth, until he heard Cyrus talking. “I am glad to see Jafar did not harm you over my escape.”

A wry smile came over Aamir’s face, there was no real harm. And he likely deserved everything he got anyway, but he still would not back down on his stance regardless. A sultan did not claim illegitimate children, he was sorry Jafar’s mother had died and left him an orphan, but he would never claim him as his own. “I told you, I have something he wants and shall never have, he cannot afford to cause me harm the same as he cannot afford to do likewise to you. Well, more than he’s done so far.”

Cyrus turned to face the older man; he knew what it was Jafar wanted from him. After he’d brought up the long buried wish he’d slowly begun to piece it all together. The resemblance between Jafar and the old man were minute at best, but it was there, yet Cyrus still could not fathom why all this just to earn respect or love from his father.

Who was the old man really, there had to be something important that Cyrus was missing in all this. A son always wanted their father’s love and respect, it was natural. He yearned for his own father’s forgiveness, although he knew he would never have it, so he could understand, in a way, where Jafar was coming from. And that was a slightly disturbing thought at best.

But still, who was the old man? It made no sense to go to all this effort unless he was someone important.

“Would you care to hear a story?” Aamir inquired, fancying it would be a better way to pass the time than the old makeshift game of chess. He’d lost some of the pieces regardless, in the depths below.

He could also tell the genie was hazy at best when it came to his thought process, and there was no honour in winning against someone who wasn’t cognitively fit for such a game.

Cyrus sighed, folding his hands across his chest. A story would pass the time, and he’d always loved stories. It was one pleasure he’d never grown out of, and depending on where the old man originally hailed from he might have tales that he’d never heard before. “If you wish to tell me one, I would be more than happy to listen.”

Aamir grinned, he had a feeling Cyrus would be open to his suggestion. It wasn’t like they had much else to do in a bid to occupy the endless hours of monotony that came with captivity. “This is a tale of my ancestors which has been passed down through the centuries. Some have said it has been given a fanciful spin as time moved forward, but there are few other ways to explain how a poor boy could find himself in the favour of a Sultan to win the hand of his daughter.”

**********  
 _  
It was their secret place, a secluded little area just on the outskirts of Agrabah. A place no one would think to look for the daughter of the Sultan, and no one ever had in the last two years since she’d met Aladdin. This was their place, and it had been well over two months since she’d last sat by the little pond, waiting for the man she loved._

_A part of Jasmyn doubted he would even come; they used to meet every three days in this spot, at the same time. He swore he would continue to wait for her there as they always did, until the Sultan returned. Then he would know she was married to that faraway prince, if on the day after her father arrived home she didn’t come to meet him._

_And so she sat there, clutching the genie’s bottle and reading the book of stories from the Enchanted Forest Cyrus had gifted her before his father had disowned him. It was a lovely book, and she rather liked the idea of true love over arranged marriage. She could see why he liked it as well, and why the pages were so worn. It was obvious he and Nadira had read it many, many times._

_She sighed, setting the book aside as she picked up the bottle. She looked at it as the sun shone off the polished brass, making it shine around the red designs painted on the surface. She wondered what he was doing inside there, and how he was coping. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to go from crown prince surrounded by people to a genie trapped alone in a bottle._

_Cyrus had given her his bottle after he’d done what he’d needed to do with the elixir, and explained she was to do with him as she pleased. Her first thought was of Aladdin, a genie could do great things and maybe a few well worded wishes would help their cause. She wanted to marry him with all her heart, but she could only marry a prince, so stated the law. It was a stupid law, and outdated as well, but her father refused to change it._

_If only things hadn’t turned out the way they had, as she had begun to realize she likely would have been happy married to Cyrus. It wouldn’t be the type of love she shared with Aladdin, but they would have been happy together._

_Of course, not long after the service, there was another possibility brought up, which she had expected. That being a marriage to who was now the heir apparent. Raheem was a nice young man, but she would rather not go back to that palace and see Naseem again. Not after the grief he had caused her friend. Her heart had broke the last time she’d seen Cyrus, and she swore there was no way she would align herself with that family. She knew his brothers and mother did not feel the same way as the father, but she refused to be in his presence. He’d brought up the subject of a marriage between her and Raheem but thankfully her father turned it down._

_Maybe he’d taken her tears as grief for the man she loved, it didn’t matter. She did love Cyrus, as a dear friend, and grieved all that he’d lost and the way his father had treated him at the end. She couldn’t say that to her father, nor could she tell him Cyrus wasn’t actually dead, but she would allow him to think she was still wearing black to mourn his passing. It was only proper she should mourn the man she was to marry._

_“Jasmyn!”_

_She looked up and her smile brightened, Aladdin hadn’t given up on her. She set down Cyrus’ bottle and ran over to him, laughing with joy as he embraced her. “I was beginning to worry you had married that strange prince! I could not bear the thought of it, to end up with someone you don’t love, what a horrible fate.”_

_She grinned and leaned over to kiss him, overjoyed to be in his arms once more. “Don’t think of it anymore,” she told him as the kiss ended, resting her forehead on his._

_Aladdin pulled back slightly and grinned at her. “Is it horrible when news travelled through the city that this Prince Cyrus had died I was happy? If he was dead it meant you were free and you would return to me.”_

_Jasmyn pulled away at that, her smile fading. Of course Aladdin didn’t mean it in a nasty way, as she’d been fretting over her impending marriage before leaving to meet Cyrus, but it stung to hear him speak so callously. “Don’t speak so, he is a good man,” she snapped, reaching down to pick up the bottle when she found herself standing by it._

_That reaction caught him off guard. “I’m sorry, I thought you would be relieved to be free of your arranged marriage,” Aladdin apologized as he walked over to her, taking one of her hands in his. It puzzled him that she spoke of the late prince in the present tense, instead of past. Had she fallen in love with him after all and was having a hard time dealing with his death? He had worried that she may end of falling for the prince she was destined to wed, as he was of the same station in life as her, and her life with him would be everything she could ever want._

_“It isn’t that, but what happened before we left. There was a horrible illness there, it was devastating. The young princess passed away from it, their mother became ill next and so did Cyrus, although he hid it from everyone. Before he...” Jasmyn looked down at the bottle in her slender hands, trying to find the right word and coming up with nothing. “... his father told him that he was a disappointment and refused to acknowledge him. No matter what Cyrus said, his father only walked away. His last memory is of his father’s hate.”_

_Aladdin found that odd, why would the Shah feel his heir was a disappointment for catching a deadly disease? He still noted that she wouldn’t utter any words in relation to the concept of death when it came to Prince Cyrus, further worrying him that she had, indeed, fallen in love. “But, the mother survived. Everyone says she lived, but Prince Cyrus died,” he insisted, a little confused._

_“That was thanks to Cyrus. But first, I have a gift for you, my love. It will change our lives for the better,” she told him, handing him the bottle._

_He grinned, and looked at the bottle curiously. It was very pretty but he wasn’t sure how it would do much of anything. She was still royalty and he was not, there was no way they could marry regardless of this far off prince being in the picture or not._

_It was then her words struck him; this would change their lives. He’d heard stories about bottles and lamps which contained mythical beings called genies. They could perform great feats of magic, surely if this was a genie’s bottle he could wish to be a prince fit to marry a princess. Genies could do anything, or so the legends he’d heard said, surely that would be a simple wish to grant._

_With an eager smile Aladdin pulled the cork out of the top of the bottle and watched with awe as an orange mist began to spill forth. He glanced towards Jasmyn to see her reaction, and was a bit surprised at the sorrow on her face. Why wasn’t she watching with awe in her eyes as well? He thought to ask but realized someone had appeared before them: a genie._

_Aladdin marveled at the mythical creature that stood there, with his head bowed and hands clasped before him. He was dressed quite richly, and looked hardly a year or two older than he was, but then if he was a genie he could be centuries old and still look like a boy who had just entered adulthood._

_“Master mine, my will is thine,” the genie said, slowly raising his eyes to see who had summoned him. Aladdin found it odd he could read the same sorrow in the dark eyes of the genie as he did in Jasmyn’s, but before he could say anything he found himself holding three ruby like jewels in his hand. “Tell me your wishes three.”_

_He glanced down at the little jewels in the palm of his hand, such tiny things with amazing possibilities. The chance to be someone else, to be what the law required him to be to marry Jasmyn and so much more, all of it was literally in his grasp. “How did you find a genie?” he asked excitedly, turning his attention back to the woman he loved. “All stories tell they are impossible to find. There are many genies but most people horde them away in closets and chests to keep others from finding them.”_

_Jasmyn felt her heart sink when Aladdin said that, and she moved towards Cyrus who was still standing where he’d appeared. She reached out and placed a hand on the side of his face, in a comforting gesture. The way he leaned slightly into her touch, closing his eyes, told her all she really needed to know. She couldn’t even fathom how starved for any human contact he’d been on the long journey from his home to her’s. “Are you okay?” she softly asked, to which he nodded but she knew it was a lie._

_If Aladdin was even slightly confused before, he was completely lost now. “Jasmyn, he’s a genie. You’re talking to him like he’s a person,” he blurted out, realizing a second later that was rather rude. If his mother was still alive she’d likely have cuffed him upside the head for that._

_He was also rather accustom to how Jasmyn was, she was a loving person who felt concern for all she met, so he shouldn’t be so surprised she would extend that to something out of mythology and legends. What he knew of genies made him certain he would never want to be one; he could never imagine a life without the freedom he knew. He may have nothing but at least he wasn’t a slave to another’s desires._

_Jasmyn glared at Aladdin, wanting to be angry but she reminded herself that he didn’t realize what was going on. Maybe she should have told him before giving him the bottle, but it was too late now. “Are you going to ask for his name? I would think you’d want to call him by something other than genie,” she snapped, feeling a little upset at the way Aladdin was acting. She’d noticed the slight distress in Cyrus’ eyes when Aladdin had said what most people do with genies. Of course he was more than aware of the future he had ahead of him, but he didn’t need to be reminded._

_Aladdin didn’t want to say it out loud, but he’d not intended to ask if the genie had a name. He’d grown up hearing stories about genies and they never seemed to have names, or if they did he didn’t notice. He was more interested in the adventure and magic then the little details. “Do you have a name genie?” he inquired, a touch amazed when the genie nodded._

_“Yes, my name is Cyrus,” he answered._

_“Excuse me? That was the name of that prince Jasmyn was supposed to marry,” Aladdin stuttered, now thoroughly confused._

_The genie, Cyrus, smiled warmly at him. “I am the prince she was to marry. That is why we share the same name master, we are the same.”_

_“You don’t have to say master you know,” Jasmyn admonished, slightly annoyed hearing that word, it seemed wrong hearing it fall from Cyrus’ lips._

_“I’m sorry, the spell that changed me has taken full affect, and I can’t help it. Whoever summons me has to insist I not call them by that title,” he explained. He couldn’t understand it himself, he knew exactly who stood before him but for some reason his mind just referred to the young man as master._

_“I’m confused,” Aladdin told them, glancing between the two of them completely lost. His gaze then traveled down for a few passing moments to the brass bottle he held in his hands, wondering how someone even got the prince in there. How did the prince, who had died so far as he had been told, end up locked away in a bottle destined to grant wishes for eternity?_

_Jasmyn walked over to the man she loved and placed her small hands on his shoulders, her eyes looking at him with a strange mix of love and sorrow. The story would take awhile to tell, so she was glad that they made their usual meeting early in the afternoon._

_Cyrus smiled warmly at Aladdin; he rather liked the young man despite his brash words earlier. He knew he hadn’t meant to be rude, he’d had no idea that Cyrus wasn’t simply a genie accustom to this life. In time he’d grow used to whatever fate dealt him, but for now it was going to be difficult. The spell had altered him somewhat; he knew what to say when released from his bottle, he could not stop thinking of the person who summoned him as ‘master’ even if he knew their name and he only desired to make sure that whoever summoned him was happy._

_“I think you may want to sit down, master, as this will be a long story,” he urged, as Aladdin and Jasmyn both sat down._

_“You should likely sit as well, if it is a long tale to be told Cyrus. And please, call me Aladdin.”_

**********

Realization dawned on Cyrus as Aamir continued with his tale, he began to tune the old man out. He didn’t need to hear the rest of the story, or how it had been passed down through the centuries. He’d been there; he’d seen it unfold when he was allowed out of his bottle.

Every wish had a string attached, and he began to wonder if maybe this was not it. He normally was never around long enough to see the consequences of the wishes he granted, and when he was present he was sorry he had been. His masters never seemed to listen to him when he warned them to be careful with their wishes, and when it went wrong he took the blame.

He could still hear many of them shouting at him, accusing him of twisting their words for his own sick pleasure. Nothing he could say ever convinced them otherwise, it was always his fault and at times he internally wished his bottle would never be found again. At times, he’d rather spend eternity trapped inside it and never have human contact again.

But then he would remember when he had finally been released that first time, and the feel of Jasmyn’s slender hand against his face and realize he really didn’t want that. It was fortunate genie’s didn’t get wishes, that was only for mortals. He’d have gone mad being left alone for too long, never mind when he was released he never did get human contact regardless, unless his master was angry at him.

Alice was the first in centuries whose touches were filled with love, and he’d missed that. In the beginning he hadn’t known what to make of it, and had tried to not get too attached to the idea of being treated like anyone else over a magical servant. She’d make her wishes, she’d bore of him once the novelty of having a genie wore off and she realized she could have anything she could ever desire with a few well thought out words.

He sighed, pushing thoughts of Alice from his mind. At least now he had the answer to the riddle; the old man was a Sultan and Jafar was obviously an illegitimate son. He felt pity for both parties in the situation, as there was no outcome for either that would be satisfactory, he’d seen how it worked before.

Cyrus closed his eyes, thinking back to a life he sometimes longed to return to. He could remember a few servants in the palace he swore bore an uncanny resemblance to himself and his siblings. One, whose name had sadly been lost in the passing of time, was only months younger that himself. What made it stranger, for himself at least, was the boy was one of his personal attendants. It always bothered him, as he grew up he began to realize who the boy was and it seemed cruel to make the boy wait on him.

But he couldn’t complain to his father, or say a word of his suspicion. He’d seen Raheem do that once, and not a day later the servant went missing. Cyrus had looked and inquired after the other boy, only to discover he’d been dismissed and sent on his way with the best of luck. It seemed cruel his father would act in such a way to the children he’d had with any of his many mistresses, but he knew well one in that position would not claim an illegitimate child. And so he was as kind to the boy as possible, being fairly certain he was his half brother, despite the other was a little vindictive at times having figured it out for himself as well. That was when Cyrus swore he’d never engage in the same practices as his father in those regards.

If only Jafar would realize nothing would change, even with the laws of magic broken he would only earn false love from his father. He didn’t agree with the Sultan’s practices, as he was fairly certain Aladdin would never have engaged in such antics, but as the line of succession continued each ruler would be different and decide what was best for them self. Hang the consequences.

Only in this case the consequence had grown up very bitter and vindictive, and it was not only costing the person who’d wronged the child; it had a ripple effect that touched people who had nothing to do with the situation.

Although maybe he did have something to do with it, hadn’t he granted Aladdin’s wish all those centuries ago to be a prince worthy to marry a princess?

**********

There was a back room in the dress shop, it wasn’t used all that often as its main purpose was for quiet moments to have a cup of tea to escape what could sometimes be bedlam. It wasn’t often things became that hectic in the shop, but once in awhile some rather demanding women would all seemingly descend all at once and make life miserable for Mrs. Slater and Pari.

It was a bit of a refuge, but in this moment it was where Pari was finally feeling as though life was coming full circle. She paced slightly, clutching the ever spinning compass in her hands as Alice and Anastasia told her what they could about Cyrus. It pained her, more when Anastasia came to her part of the tale but she could sense the former queen had nothing but regrets over her hand in the plot to use Cyrus to break the laws of magic.

She sighed, all the nights she’d envisioned being reunited with her son she’d never thought of this. Pari had always imagined somehow finding his bottle and becoming his mistress. That wasn’t the ideal situation, but it was better than never seeing him again. She had even spent centuries removing the word wish from her vocabulary. It was hard, and even now she still slipped up but she knew with Cyrus back in her life she’d double her efforts until she figured out how to free him of the curse once and for all.

Once she had him again, she was never letting go. And now fate was playing a cruel joke on her, she had the compass but he was trapped in another realm with no way of escape. And if Anastasia’s stories were anything to go by, there was a high chance he was in no state to even try on his own.

“I’ve heard of this Jafar, once. He is a ruthless and cruel man,” she said in a flat tone, finally taking a seat on a chair across from the two younger women sitting on the small loveseat. “This isn’t the first realm I’ve come to since Cyrus disappeared into his bottle that night so long ago, I’ve been seeking him out for longer than you can likely comprehend and it seems even now the journey is nowhere near its end.”

Alice frowned, it pained her that they’d found his mother only to bring her sad news. “I’m so sorry, if only we’d tried harder to bring him with us...” she began to say, only to be cut off with a slight wave of the older woman’s hand.

“You never would have moved him, Cyrus has been terrified of snakes since he was a small boy. I’ve witnessed him, even in the last few weeks before he was made a genie, turn and find the longest way to his destination just to avoid the reptiles if he even thought he saw one. Once Faarih took note of that little quirk he used to find anything that would resemble a snake just to see what Cyrus would do. It was a rather cruel joke to play, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t find it somewhat amusing at times. But there is no need to chastise yourself for not finding a way to bring Cyrus with you, he never would have moved if there was a snake in front of him, that is how frightened he is of them,” she explained, shaking her head sadly. There was nothing any of them could have done, and she hoped they understood that.

Anastasia nodded slowly, she was still angry at herself that she at least didn’t think of a way around those magically conjured snakes, and that she hadn’t lost Cyrus’ bottle. She may hold two wishes, but it didn’t mean she might not accidently use them. She was a very careful woman, but mistakes did happen. She had no idea if Cyrus’ magic was powerful enough to grant a wish from a completely different realm, or if he’d even sense the wish should she make one. It was a curious thought, but she had no intentions of testing the theory out either.

“We do have to find a way back to Wonderland, we can’t leave him there,” Alice stated, tapping her fingers lightly on the arm of the loveseat. There had to be a way back to Wonderland, now that they’d found Pari her determination increased tenfold. She had every intention of going back for Cyrus before, but now the need was far more urgent. “How did you travel between realms?”

Anastasia looked towards Pari, that had been on her mind as well. So far as she knew, you needed a portal jumper and she only knew of two. If they were lucky, the White Rabbit was still alive but he was fairly useless to them from here. The fact he hadn’t dug a hole to find one of them, or to help Cyrus escape didn’t bode well for the rabbit or genie.

The other portal jumper she knew of was the Mad Hatter, also known as Jefferson back in the Enchanted Forest. He certainly hadn’t been mad there, but the last time she’d seen him in Wonderland he wasn’t exactly what she’d call completely sane either. He’d vanished a long time ago, and from what she’d heard he’d been caught up in the dark curse, which seemed to pull certain people from the Enchanted Forest, no matter where they happened to be. She did wonder how the people were selected, but fancied it was mainly people that had crossed paths with Regina. That made her wonder what Will had done to annoy the Evil Queen, but then it was Will so she didn’t spend much time pondering it. He had a talent for getting under the skin of many people.

Pari smiled warmly at them both, there were more ways than just portal jumpers to get from one realm to the next. Or wishes, which she assumed is how her son had gone from their home realm to Wonderland. “A man taught me magic shortly after my son was taken from me, and he gave me a small supply of some magical beans which will take you from one realm to another. The trouble with them is you can’t tell where you will end up, and there are some realms you most certainly never want to find yourself in. But, he taught me a spell to make the portal they create to direct you to the realm you want,” she explained.

Alice became excited, another way to travel between realms? This was by far the answer to their problem, and if Pari still had these magical beans they could easily go and fetch Cyrus, as well as his bottle as it was a foregone conclusion that Jafar had it in his possession. If it could be sorted, they could be leaving to rescue Cyrus before evening.

But Anastasia was feeling a little wary of it all. She wasn’t against using magic, in the least. But the man who taught Pari worried her, there was only one man she knew of that was as old as this woman likely was, or even older. There were many types of magic, but she’d never worked with dark magic. Some of the acts she’d done with her magic could be considered less than amiable, a certain Tweedle could attest to that, but she had never worked with the darker arts. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked at Pari, inquiring if it was someone known as the Dark One who taught her, the reservation apparent in her voice.

Pari wasn’t surprised by Anastasia’s reaction, she figured if either of them guessed who would have taught her there would have been an instant level of distrust. “He really isn’t as horrible as they say, it is more to keep people away than truths,” she assured her, trying to find the right word to describe Rumpelstiltskin. “He’s...eccentric.” Even that didn’t completely cover the man known as the Dark One either, but it was better than some words that could be used.

Anastasia quirked one blonde eyebrow questioningly, a look of disbelief washing over her face. “That’s one word I’ve never heard used in association with Rumpelstiltskin,” she muttered.

“He isn’t evil, not in its purest form,” Pari assured them, although it was directed more towards Anastasia, as it was obvious Alice had no idea who the man in question was.

Alice looked between them, a little confused. She knew the stories from her childhood, but obviously those were completely off. Evidently there were many different stories depicting the person in question. “If he’s so evil, as Anastasia grew up believing, why would he help you?” she finally asked, genuinely curious.

Pari leaned back in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips. “He understands what it is to lose a son and having the willingness to go through anything to get your child back.”


	9. Many Discussions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anastasia prepares to leave for Wonderland, amid arguments from Will who feels it might be better if he goes. Before she leaves though, she learns from Pari there is a way to severe her from her genie, and it isn't the most pleasant way.
> 
> Later Alice and Will have a discussion on love and relationships, which prompts Edwin and Pari to talk of the broken relationships both Alice and Cyrus have with their fathers, although only one father has the chance to make amends.
> 
> In Wonderland Jafar attempts to break Cyrus' ties to the former Red Queen, with no avail. Cyrus also decides to give the sorcerer a few choice words, maybe not one of his better decisions considering the situation he's in, but he's fairly fed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

If looks could kill, Will would have been dead at least twice over for the last utterance he’d just made. If the look of indignation he had just received from Alice wasn’t enough of a clue he’d made a mistake with his words, the sound of annoyance that came forth from Anastasia’s lips should have reinforced the fact he’d made a massive blunder.

Pari looked at him with a touch of amusement; obviously he hadn’t thought that statement through before speaking it aloud. “Why do you believe that you are the only one who can manage to rescue my son from Jafar?” she inquired, trying not to laugh as a flustered look washed over his face.

“Because,” he began, searching for what to say. He looked to Edwin who just shook his head. Obviously the man was not about to get himself involved in this mess. Even Sarah, who he thought was a prim and proper Victorian woman, was looking at him with a touch more disgust in her eyes than normal. Although she always seemed to be annoyed or dismayed over something when he was involved. “Well, I’m a man for starters. You keep going on that the genie might not be in good shape, you’ll need someone strong to carry him out of wherever Jafar has him. And well, what I already said, I’m a man.”

“Really darling, we never would have guessed,” Anastasia drawled, rolling her eyes. “That is all well and good, and might be a sound argument if this was a different situation but you’re missing out on one very important fact.”

Will quirked an eyebrow, he was fairly certain he’d thought this argument through. Of course one could argue he didn’t always think things through, and he’d be loathed to let them bring any of it up as in some instances they were likely very right. But this time, he was making a valid point. He knew Alice would be the first to want to jump on this adventure, but he felt it would be better if she stayed behind, the same with Anastasia. Too many people would just be a hindrance. They didn’t need to have more than one person for Jafar to go after.

“You forget I know Jafar’s floating castle, unlike you or Alice. I know where he’ll most likely be keeping Cyrus and I also know that there is another prisoner who may be more than willing to assist me with removing our friend from the sorcerer’s clutches, if he’s promised freedom in return,” she explained, standing and walking over to Will. She placed her slender hands on his shoulders, smiling at him. “I also have magic.”

“What good is that going to do you? Pretty sure Cyrus has magic as well,” he blurted out, realizing a second later the statement was rather foolish.

Pari jumped in there. “Genie magic is only for the pleasure of their master. It is very powerful magic, more so than the power Anastasia has, and even Jafar but he cannot access it for his own desires. If he could, I know he would have found a way to break his curse.”

Will bit his bottom lip, looking over at the woman he’d only met moments ago, then back to Anastasia. He reached up and removed her hands from his shoulders, gripping them in his. “Look, I’m worried. I’m not saying we can pick up where we left off all those years ago, but I’m not going to lie and say I’m not afraid something will happen to you. You have two of the genie wishes still; Jafar has Cyrus and his bottle. I’m not the brightest bloke in the world, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’ll try anything to break you and make you wish if he has you in his general vicinity. I just care enough that I don’t want to see you hurt is all.”

Alice looked down, trying not to smile. It was almost amusing, to her anyway, that a few weeks ago in Wonderland he was proclaiming that he’d never love her again, and he never could. If it weren’t for his stubborn pride on the matter they’d have been safe and sound, all of them. They’d even have reunited a mother and son by this point as well, but it didn’t happen as they planned.

Cyrus had told her once he’d been told that everything happens for a reason, although he questioned that quite frequently. Even she had moments she wondered about that saying, but right then it was starting to make sense to her.

Without that somewhat ambiguously worded wish, there never would have been the role reversal that had prompted Cyrus to wish the Knave back his heart. It still hurt her that he’d also wished the roles to be put right, but after Pari explained to them how exactly he’d become a genie, she understood the reasoning. She still didn’t agree with it, but she did understand. Cyrus had made the deal, not Will, and it wasn’t right to make him pay a price he had not agreed to.  
Anastasia brought Will’s hands up, lightly kissing them both. “We have a lot to talk about, but right now rescuing Cyrus and getting him safely out of Wonderland is more important than our own problems. I’ll be safe, you don’t need to worry about that. Pari says she has enchanted the two magic beans to take me directly where I want to go. The first will get me to Cyrus, or close enough and the second I’ll use to bring us back here. I won’t lie and say I’m not afraid, I am. Jafar is not a man to trifle with, but with luck I can be in and out without him realizing it.”

“You need to get the bottle as well. So long as Jafar has even one thing to connect him to Cyrus, he will not stop,” Alice said, looking at them both. She doubted it would stop the sorcerer regardless, but at least with nothing that had a thing to do with the genie, it might stop him up slightly. She could hope anyway.

Pari nodded, it would be best if there was nothing left in that man’s grasp that could somehow lead him to Cyrus. She knew there were spells that could be utilized to find someone based solely by using an object that was important to the person you longed to locate. And to a genie, their bottle or lamp was their refuge and home. “If you can somehow bring the other two genies, it might be for the best. I know this spell, and although the other two are not like my son and actually were genies from the start, it doesn’t mean they should be left to Jafar’s mercy.”

The former Red Queen nodded, the list of what she needed to do was getting long, but Anastasia did enjoy a challenge. 

**********

Aamir watched as Jafar continued reciting some strange language, observing the genie intently. Magic wasn’t something he’d been familiar with, it hadn’t been common in the court and he’d always frowned upon it when someone brought it up. It seemed like a lazy way to gain the means to an end, it was much more rewarding to work for what you wanted over just saying a few words or waving a hand to get whatever it was you wanted to accomplish. Even now he found it even less of an admirable vocation in life.

Not that he frowned upon it when it came to Cyrus, he could not hold that against someone in his position. He knew genie magic was not meant for the being in question, and he couldn’t be against it too much when that was what had brought one of his ancestors into a position to marry a princess. It wasn’t Cyrus’ fault people would seek him out, and do anything to have him in their service, all for his magical abilities.

Jafar was, in his opinion, a perfect example of how magic could corrupt. He knew in a way he was to blame for the man’s quest for ultimate power but he would not back down and give the sorcerer what he wanted. That wasn’t how it worked, and maybe if Jafar had just accepted his position in the palace instead of trying to please him as a dutiful son, their relationship would have been different.

But that was the past, and he knew it couldn’t be changed. That was not to say he didn’t long for that at times, it would be pleasant to have the option to reach back and change events that ended poorly or shaped a rather unfortunate present. The one time he’d mentioned it to Cyrus, the genie had told him that not only was that against the laws of magic, but in changing one event, it could set off another that could still bring one to a place they did not want or foresee in their future.

His attention came back to the here and now when he heard the genie cry out slightly. He had to give Cyrus credit; he was stubborn and would not give Jafar or any of the guards the satisfaction of seeing him break down from the mistreatment. He’d seen many break under less, it made him wonder about Cyrus’ past all the more, but he knew the mythical being he’d been considering a friend would not tell him.

Jafar waved his hand, and the silver cage was brought down to his level. His dark eyes were flickering with anger, the spell was not working. He’d been thorough in his reading, there was only one spell to severe a genie’s will from their master and he’d found it. The statement in the pages that it had never been tried before mattered little to him, so far as Jafar was concerned he was a very powerful sorcerer so success should be simple.

The only problem was it was doing nothing. The most he’d seen was Cyrus flinch a few times, and upon this last try he’d cried out, be it somewhat muted. The spell should have sent him back to his bottle, and yet he remained out in the world. That was not how it was to work.

He smirked when Cyrus did finally give a louder cry of pain as the guards pulled him out of his small prison. At the very least, it was almost satisfying to see how the genie would react to the silver. And in his already weakened state he had a harder time concealing his pain. “It would seem you are still as stubborn as ever, if you’d just allow the spell to take hold you could be safely back in your bottle. It is absolutely ridiculous that you persist in this, and that the only one who can put you back where you belong is that aggravating little queen.”

Cyrus lifted his head, which was quite the effort at this point, and glared at Jafar. “There is no spell to severe my will, or any genie’s, from their master. You are wasting your time and your breath. If you want to kill me, than do so and be done, although something tells me that would be detrimental to your foolish quest to obtain ultimate power,” Cyrus said, not caring if he was aggravating the man who was holding him captive. There really wasn’t much else he could do to make life a misery.

Those words only served to raise Jafar’s ire, but he managed to hold it in. The one thing he’d noticed about Cyrus was he did have a habit of trying to get under his skin. He had a touch of arrogance with his speech sometimes, which seemed out of place for someone in his position. “You think yourself better than me, don’t you?” Jafar snarled, reaching out and taking hold of the genie’s face in his hand, forcing him to look right at him.

Cyrus grinned, what an ironic question considering centuries ago the answer would have been a foregone conclusion. “I know I am,” he answered, not bothering to hide the haughty tone in his voice. “I may be a magical slave now, but once I was in a position much higher than you could ever dream of as the unwanted mistake of a Sultan.”

A second after he said those words, Cyrus realized he’d likely pushed his luck a little too far. That was confirmed when his head whipped to one side from the force of Jafar backhanding him for his arrogant statement. Still, he didn’t regret what he’d said. It was a truth, and frankly the sorcerer needed to be brought down a notch or two.

He highly doubted it had any effect on the man, other than to increase his desire to make the spell work, but it was worth it in his mind. He was tired of being treated like a piece of property and not being allowed to speak his mind. He had resigned himself to the fact he was unlikely to get away from Jafar, this captivity would most likely last until the man’s life came to an end, either naturally or through some unfortunate occurrence, but he certainly wasn’t going to be compliant. Jafar was not his master; he had no right to order him around.

“Rather a high reaching statement for a genie,” Jafar sneered, grabbing Cyrus by his vest. He pulled him closer, searching his face as if looking for some trace of who the mythical being had once been. “You seem to speak of quite a lofty life, but you’ve given no indication of being anything more than what you are, a piece of property to be forgotten once you’ve served your purpose and are used up.”

At that, Cyrus closed his eyes for a moment. He would never get over those sorts of statements, they always did cut deep. A breath escaped his lips, and he slowly opened his eyes again to look at Jafar, who was still glaring at him with nothing but hate and fire in his eyes. If only all those who thought their actions hurt no one could see this one unwanted child, what would they say then? Would they still maintain there was no harm in finding affection in the arms of someone who wasn’t their wife, and producing children that may one day discover their connections to a throne they had no right to claim? It was in that moment he wondered if Raheem had followed in their father’s footsteps or not.

“You are right; I am nothing more than property now. Just an item to toss aside and forget existed in the first place once the wishes are granted. But what is the point to dwelling on the life I was born into now? Centuries ago you would have waited on me, as it would have been your place being below the heir to a throne,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a bit of a smile. This likely was going to end poorly, or painfully, but he’d said it now and he couldn’t take the words back.

Jafar was stunned, and it took a lot to render him in such a state. He’d known from his books that Cyrus was not originally a genie, at one time he’d been mortal but had been cursed into his bottle. This, he hadn’t expected this at all. “And you gave it all up, a throne, adoration and power for what? No one would willingly give up such a position to spend eternity granting the wishes of selfish people.”

“Power is all a state of mind, as a Shah I would hold no more power than anyone else. Everyone believes royalty to have so much, and yet no one realizes all the restrictions and rules involved with that life, but that is neither here nor there. We all have the power to dictate what direction our lives shall take, granted I no longer have it myself as my will and fate is forever in the hands of the person who finds my bottle, but you could have chosen a path that was not laden with hate and the desire to exact revenge over one man’s choice to partake in a poorly advised practice of royalty. I had no desire to the throne that would have been mine, but knew it was my duty as my father’s heir, no matter how much I disliked the idea of it. I did not give up that life for a small thing such as wanting nothing to do with being royalty; I gave up my position, my freedom and my life for my mother. To save my mother, and by extension my family, I would have given up anything and my only regret is that I only earned my father’s disdain and hate in the end,” he said, looking away from Jafar for a moment. “We can’t have everything, and I’ve come to find a sense of peace with the fact my father was disappointed in me, but I know my brother would have been a better ruler than I.”

Jafar hid his shock at the genie’s admission, but his mind was reeling from it. A small part of him could understand the desire to save a loved one, as he would have done anything as a boy to save his mother, but in the end, he still saw Cyrus’ choice as weakness. The boy who could understand why the genie had done what he had died a long time ago. “You were a fool, but no matter. I will find a way to bring that little upstart of a girl playing queen back to Wonderland. And I shall break her, in front of you. If she does not use her wishes willingly, I will torture her in ways that will make you beg her to do so, just to spare herself any more agony. You shall be mine, genie.”

“So you keep saying, and yet here we are with you uttering pointless threats and I am still standing here, be it with a great deal of assistance, giving you much to think about in your choices. As I can sense you are feeling a bit unbalanced now,” Cyrus answered, once more wondering when he’d learn to shut his mouth. He could tell Jafar was thinking over what he’d said, but he also knew it was going to make no difference in the long run. If Jafar wanted to he could stop the madness now, and move on with his life. Find a sense of happiness in another way instead of believing magic would give him all he could ever desire. 

But he knew that was not going to happen. Cyrus had seen many masters over countless lifetimes who only desired an easy way to what they desired, no matter the cost to others. One could argue this wasn’t what you’d call an easy path to a particular goal, but if it weren’t for a few hurdles in the way Jafar would already have all the power he desired.

“You shall be mine, genie, either by destroying that little girl to make her wishes or I shall make that spell work. Mark my words, I shall own you in the end,” Jafar stated, ordering the guards to take Cyrus back to the room he kept all his books and other such necessities for spells in.

Cyrus kept his silence then, knowing the spell would not work and Anastasia was far stronger than Jafar gave her credit for. There was one way to severe his will from her, but there was no chance he was giving up that piece of information. He’d had it happen before, and he’d prefer to never see it happen again.

**********

She held the small beans in the palm of her hand, feeling a slight bit of trepidation at the thought of what she was about to do. Not only was she going to rescue Cyrus, but she had to locate his bottle, the other two genies and likely find that bothersome White Rabbit as it was a foregone conclusion Jafar had him as well.

That was assuming he hadn’t made the realm hopping creature into a meal.

Quite the task for one person, and more of a challenge when she realized there was a high chance Jafar would have everything she needed to locate spread out in his blasted floating castle in the sky. She wondered why he’d done it that way, when he had magic powerful enough to conceal it, but then she supposed it kept from someone stumbling upon it by accident. He always thought everything through, with him there was no room for error.

“Second thoughts?” Pari inquired, smiling warmly as they walked through the garden to the further edge of the property. The sun was beginning to set, washing the sky in ambers and pinks of dusk and giving the world a slightly ethereal feel.

Anastasia shrugged. “Not really, just realizing the monumental task I have set out before me. But I owe it to everyone, I won’t return until I’ve done what needs to be accomplished. After all the pain and suffering I’ve caused, this is the very least I can do. And I feel I have a debt to Cyrus, he was the only one to believe in me when both Will and Alice refused,” she explained, glancing towards Pari. “Your son, he’s a good man.”

Pari nodded, reaching up to brush hair out of her face. “It was for no lack of trying, he could have easily turned into Raheem or Faarih. But then, he was always of a different temperament, more like his sister Nadira. I am glad to hear that the centuries trapped in that life hasn’t ruined him.”

They continued on in silence, not finding a need to speak to each other. Anastasia enjoyed those types of silences, the type where you knew both parties were comfortable enough with themselves and each other to not need to fill the empty space with words. That was one thing she’d always found lacking with Will, he always had to talk or have some sort of noise. She could never abide it, but dealt with it. It was one of his quirks, and even though it aggravated her to no end she still loved him.

Although that love was going to be hard to repair. She could tell he was realizing, now with his heart back where it belonged, that he still wanted her but she was not going to fly back into his arms that easily. They’d both done horrible things to each other, either through their actions or through words, and it would take work to get back to where they were before leaving for Wonderland. She hoped one day they would find that place again, the love that had given them everything they had ever needed and had been too blind to see at the time, but she knew it would take time.

You can forgive the past, but you never truly forget it. Those actions and words would always haunt their present and future together, if there was one for them. It would be completely unrealistic for her to believe otherwise, and even Cyrus had pointed out to her if the laws of magic had been broken and she’d changed the past, there was nothing stopping the same events from playing out but in a different way.

She stopped when Pari came to a halt as well. They were at the end of the garden, which seemed the best place to open a portal. Will and Alice had stayed at the house, having said their farewells and wishes of good luck already. She knew it would have been hard for them to not want to jump into the portal after her, as Will feared for her life and Alice wanted to get to Cyrus with great haste. Neither would be a help this time, one person would fare a better chance, just as Will had insisted earlier.

She jolted slightly when a strange sensation washed over her, it felt as if someone was trying to rip something from her, but she wasn’t sure what. The sensation was uncomfortable, and rather odd. The one thing she could tell though, it was magic.

Pari noticed the reaction, and glanced at the blonde woman curiously. “Are you alright?” she inquired, having sensed the magic as well. She had a feeling she knew what exactly was going on, and it made her ill with worry. It was going to take everything in her not to follow Anastasia to Wonderland.

“I almost felt as though someone was trying to tear a part of my soul from me, or a part of who I am, if that makes any sense,” Anastasia told her, shaking her head for a second. It didn’t make any sense, but it was the only way to describe it.

“Jafar is trying that spell, the fool,” the older woman muttered, anger lacing her words. She forced a smile when Anastasia looked at her oddly. “There is an old spell that is said to break a master’s hold over a genie, but it does not work. I know, because the man who taught me magic created it as a bit of a joke. He seemed to delight, at times, to creating these spells just to mess with people. I’m not sure why he created this one, but if you’re feeling it then I assume he thought it would serve as a warning to the master there was danger to both them and their genie.”

“But, there is no way to break a hold on a genie’s will, other than making all three wishes,” Anastasia said. “That is what Jafar told me, he never mentioned a spell.”

“I doubt he would have told you everything, and I have a feeling he doesn’t know the only way to severe Cyrus’ will from you.” Pari glanced up at the sky, taking in a calming breath. It was obvious the sorcerer did not know this, or else he wouldn’t be bothering with a spell that wasn’t going to work. She looked back to Anastasia, feeling it was best to give her fair warning as there was a way, and it wasn’t favourable. “To break the hold someone has over their genie, you have to kill the master. That frees the genie’s will, and sends them back to their bottle or lamp to await a new master.”

Anastasia felt her mouth drop open slightly at that, she’d not read much on genies so that was something she hadn’t known. “But, how do you know this? I can’t imagine this is a well known fact, or else Jafar would have simply killed Alice the day we had her surrounded in my gardens. Or instructed me to throw her into the Boiling Sea instead of that risky gamble with Cyrus.”

Pari frowned, putting the piece together on the last she said. Her heart ached a bit, how terrified her son must’ve been when he thought he was falling to his death, but she pushed that aside for now. “I come from a land where genies existed, remember? How Jafar doesn’t know this is a mystery, but it isn’t a well know fact. It did not take me much time to discover how to free my son from a master, should I find him. And I would have killed his master in a heartbeat should they be abusing my son instead of treating him well, or at least being indifferent towards him. I would do anything for him, and the taking of a life was not something I was against, if I felt it was just. Anyone who would abuse someone who could not fight back due to their position was not worthy of life regardless,” she confessed, her tone a little flat.

That stunned Anastasia a little, she never entertained the thought Pari would consider killing someone just to have her son back with her. “Remind me not to cross you then.”

Pari laughed. “I can tell you are a good mistress to my son, same as Alice was. But that is no longer a worry, not when I am so close to seeing him again. He can remain your genie, so long as I may have him by my side as it has been far too long since I woke up to find him lost to me.”

Anastasia shoved the one bean in the pocket of her jacket, finding it a bit strange to have these lovely new clothes. She’d gone with the brown dress and coat, feeling that would stand out a little less than anything red, seeing as she had to get around without being detected. She reached out and hugged Pari for a passing moment, swearing that Cyrus could be with her as much as she desired, as she had no need to separate them. He might be her genie, but she would never stand in the way of a mother and her child.

When the hug ended, Pari took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, thanking her for everything she had told her and everything she was willing to do. “There truly are no words to express the gratitude I feel towards you in this moment. Be safe, Anastasia, that bean has been enchanted to take you where you want to be, to help shorten your quest and hopefully cut down on any dangers as well. When you find all you have gone in search of, the other will bring you back here. I hope this doesn’t become a long trip, but we know how the time passes strangely between realms.”

Anastasia nodded grimly at that, wondering what state she’d find Cyrus in. Jafar had a temper, and he was vindictive. Hopefully it had only been a few days, but she had a sinking feeling it had been far longer than days or weeks in that realm since they’d left. She flashed Pari a smile though, as she tossed the bean to the ground and thought of Jafar’s dungeon. “I’ll be back before you know it with your son,” she promised, just as the portal opened.

Pari nodded, and watched as she jumped into the swirling blue vortex. “Be safe,” she whispered, silently praying it would go well and they would both be safe in England soon.

**********

“Cyrus.”

A familiar voice pulled him back to reality, somewhere he’d much rather not be at that moment. He tried to ignore it, but it persisted and he eventually realized why he knew the voice. It was the White Rabbit.

He turned to face the strange creature, and it was truly the only way he could think of the Rabbit, as he’d never thought he’d live long enough to see one dressed in such a fashion. Or walking around like a human either, come to think of it. It did surprise him to see the Rabbit not far from him, in a little cage. Had he been there the last time he himself had been kept in this room with the sorcerer? “I’m sorry rabbit, but I’m of absolutely no use to you at this moment.”

“The name is Percy,” the rabbit informed him, pushing the glasses up on his nose. “And if you could just get me out of this cage I could get us out of here.”

Cyrus wanted to laugh, even if he got the rabbit, or Percy rather, out of his cage it would take all the energy he had. He’d started to come to the conclusion he’d never fully recover from the poison this time, it had been in his system for so long now he highly doubted he would ever be himself again. Not that it really mattered; it wasn’t like he was getting out of this predicament in the foreseeable future.

“I can try to get you out, but you would be better off to leave me. I will do nothing but slow you down,” Cyrus said, slowly sitting up. He felt a bit dizzy, but so long as he moved slowly it wasn’t too horrible. “You do realize there is a lock on that cage of yours.”

Percy nodded, pointing over to the left. Cyrus groaned, of course Jafar would keep the key close at hand, just to annoy the rabbit. There was nothing worse than seeing a way to freedom so close at hand and at the same time so out of reach. Every time he was released from his bottle it was the same, it might not be the same situation, but the feeling was a familiar one.

The rabbit felt a bit guilty asking Cyrus for help, as he could hardly move without an effort. It was likely luck the key was close to the ground, since it would appear the genie couldn’t work up the energy or strength to stand. He watched with a sad look in his pink eyes, feeling so sorry for his part in all of this. If he’d just been stronger and not given in to the Red Queen, Cyrus and Alice would still be off on some adventure or another.

Cyrus grasped the key, still a bit amazed at how easy this was. After the threat Jafar had made earlier concerning Anastasia, he was beginning to conclude this was all part of his twisted plan to get the former queen back to Wonderland. As he turned the key in the lock, he smirked. Two could play at that game.

As the door opened, Percy quickly stepped out of the cramped cage, looking at Cyrus oddly. The genie was up to something, that was more than obvious. It amazed him to see him plotting some mischief or other in his state. He’d never seen Cyrus looking so drawn out and almost ashen. Instead of bringing that up, he insisted on them both leaving Wonderland together.

“No Percy, that won’t be happening. Nor are you going to fetch Alice or any of the others,” Cyrus said, his eyes searching the room for where Jafar kept the genie bottles or lamps. After a few moments he located them, sighing. Of course, in this case, they’d be further away.

Slowly he grasped the edge of a nearby table and pulled himself up, using the table to steady himself as he walked, much like a small child learning to take their first steps. It was a slow, painful process but he eventually made it over to the shelf they were on and took down two of the three. He quickly fell back to the floor, with Percy quick to rush to his side asking if he needed anything.

Cyrus grinned at that, he needed many things but none would be happening in his foreseeable future. “I need you to not do what you’re planning, as that is what Jafar wants. He wants you to fetch our friends, so he can force the last two wishes out of Anastasia. Instead, you need to dig your hole and take these two genies somewhere far from here. Hide them well, or find people they may do good things for. Although, it might be wiser to hide them as I have no idea of what temperament they could be. Once you complete that task, do as you wish. I can tell you long to return to your family. But do not come back here.”

Percy took the bottle and lamp from Cyrus, glancing up towards the remaining bottle that stood on the shelf. “Don’t you want me to hide yours?”

“No, that would serve no purpose. So long as the last two wishes are not used I’ll not return to it unless Anastasia orders me to and without these other two genies the spell he wishes to enact cannot happen,” he explained, to which Percy began to protest. He let him speak for a few moment, feeling touched the rabbit was truly concerned for his wellbeing. “I appreciate your worry, but I’ll be nothing more than a burden on this quest. My energy is spent already, the poisons he has given me do not give me much of a chance to regain any strength. Please, do this for me and forget everything.”

Percy put the bottle and lamp down, set on at least helping Cyrus back to the cushions he had been laying on. It took awhile, as being rather small he was not accustom to aiding someone far bigger than himself but soon he had the genie back where he’d been.

He watched with sadness as Cyrus closed his eyes and fell back asleep. “I’ll do what you ask Cyrus, but the last. I won’t forget you and I will find some way to get you out of this. No one deserves this fate, no matter what you may think.”

**********

Will paced the length of the parlour, for what was likely the hundredth time. Or it seemed that way to Alice, she’d stopped counting after the twenty first trip across the room. “You’re going to create a hole in the floor if you keep that up.”

“Bloody hell, who cares about your bloody floor?” Will snapped, stopping in his motions and turning to look at Alice with nothing but annoyance on his face. “Are you not worried? We had to stay behind because Anastasia decided we’d be nothing more than a hindrance on this rescue mission. She has to find Cyrus, his bottle as well as the other two genies and get somewhere safe enough to use that other bean to get back here. That is a lot for one person!”

Alice nodded, it was quite the task for one person. She had longed to accompany Anastasia, not just because she ached to see Cyrus again but because even she had her doubts the former queen could handle it all. Despite that, deep down she knew the job was not beyond the woman. She did note the irony he had an issue with the concept when it was Anastasia on this quest, but when he’d insisted he could do it alone he didn’t see the problem. “Will, you’ve know Anastasia a lot longer than I have, I think you are well aware she can handle herself. She’s dealt with Jafar before.”

“Well isn’t that just fine and dandy, that is when she was working with him! They aren’t on friendly terms now, what is going to stop him from killing her the second he sees her?” This was shaping up to be one of the stupidest arguments he could ever recall having with anyone. They should have insisted on going with her, whether she liked it or not.

“The fact he needs her to make the two wishes, that’s what. So far as I know, and Cyrus never told me different, he belongs to Anastasia until she makes them. If she dies he remains in some sort of limbo, from what I could understand,” she explained, frowning. She actually had no idea what would happen if a geine’s master were to be killed. Something told her Cyrus knew, but he refused to share that little piece of information.

Now that she thought about it, he wasn’t the most sharing type. He never spoke of his past, even when she asked about his mother that night years ago he wouldn’t give her much then either. It was possible she might have received some answers to her queries, if those men hadn’t come along intent on stealing him away for their own selfish desires.

Will quirked an eyebrow and he flopped down in the wing chair across from Alice. “I know that look, you doubting your genie aren’t you?” he asked. “Him and his secrets finally catching up with him it seems. Because I don’t care what you say, when you truly do love someone you don’t keep secrets.”

“What do you know about it?” Alice snapped, looking at his with anger flashing in her blue eyes.

He shrugged. “Not much, apparently. But enough to know you shouldn’t keep major secrets from one another.”

“So, you planning to tell Anastasia all your misdeeds and who removed your heart? And from what Silvermist said I would guess you spent a good many years taking advantage of women, have you any intentions of telling her that? Some of that might colour her opinion of you, and in a way you may not like,” she shot at him, clearly aggravated with his observation. He did have a grain of truth in it, but even she hadn’t been overly forthcoming with much to do with her life in England either. And if she were being honest with herself, she really didn’t plan on telling him about her time in the asylum either, not unless she absolutely had no choice.

Will raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, you got me there. If she asks, I have no issues telling her who I let rip my heart out of my chest, but my dealings with Silvermist and countless other women? No chance I’m telling her all of that. Those are things she doesn’t need to know. So I guess secrets are not always bad, more when it is something you don’t want to talk about.”

“No, they’re not. It takes time to share certain aspects of your past with someone, no matter how much you love and trust them. I would have preferred Cyrus telling me who he once was a lot sooner, but I never did tell him everything about my life in England either. He was, and still is, my everything but at the same time I wasn’t ready to tell him certain things. And apparently he wasn’t prepared to share who he once was either, with me at any rate.” She still wished he would have said something sooner, but the past is the past and they had to move forward from it. She almost felt betrayed he’d told Anastasia, but she could tell they shared some common ground in a way, and had an understanding of one another. “At least this isn’t something that colours my opinion of him.”

Will turned his wandering gaze towards her, quirking an eyebrow. “And what exactly is that to mean?”

For reasons Alice could not explain, she was in a bit of a mood. It could be the fact Anastasia didn’t want her to come along, it might be Sarah trying to mend broken bridges with her or just the fact she was in England and her love was not, but she just felt like aggravating someone. And fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it, Will was it. “You said some horrid things to Anastasia, do you really think she’s going to fall back into your arms at a glance?”

“Well of course, true love and all that. You and your genie did that giddy little spin hug, which was rather nauseating by the way, so why don’t I get the same? You act as if the only tale of love that is worthwhile is your own,” he answered, his voice tight with annoyance and anger dancing in his eyes. “Everyone deserves love, and a second chance.”

Alice nodded slowly, he was missing the point. “When you’re in love, the only love story that matters to you is your own. You can’t tell me that you care about your relationship, or lack thereof at the moment, with Anastasia more than anyone else’s. Love is many things, and they might say it isn’t selfish but it is. When you’re in love the only person who matters is the one who holds your heart, and even if you do care about other’s, that one person will always be more important. You and Anastasia have a long, long way to go before you can get back to where you once were.”

“Aren’t you one to talk, why do you get some love free pass then?” This conversation was starting to get on his nerves. He grew up in the Enchanted Forest where all that True Love rubbish was spouted off like it was a given everyone would have it. He swore most children grew up feeling they were entitled to it; that no matter what they’d have it and if they didn’t, they’d just find a way to make it happen.

“I never said that, did I? And I wouldn’t call anything with Cyrus a ‘free pass’. We’ve both had our trials and pains before we met each other, and even afterwards. All I’m saying is you have unrealistic expectations of this relationship with Anastasia. You both have done some awful things to one another, and some could be considered unforgivable but that is up to you both. Cyrus and I did not part on misunderstandings and unfortunate lies, there is a difference.”

“Technically though...” Will began to argue before she cut him off, again. He almost wanted to laugh at the way her blue eyes gleamed with annoyance. It had been awhile since she’d hit that level of aggravation with him.

“Stop interrupting me, Knave,” she spat out. “That was all orchestrated by someone else and if I’d known he’d survived I would have found my own way to rescue him long before you and the rabbit came for me. That is the difference, did you bother to question what the Queen of Hearts told you, or did you blindly believe her?”

Will winced, she had him there. “Fine, you win. I could have found out for myself but decided having my heart ripped from my chest was easier. Hindsight is 20/20 I’m told, and looking back I really should have gone to Anastasia and found out for certain what was going on, and why she hadn’t come. Not saying it would have solved everything on the spot but it might have been better than everything that happened afterwards.” He really hated when something started to make sense. “I guess we’ve got a lot of talking to do, and sorting out our feelings before we can do one of those cute little spiny hugs of our own.”

The very image of Anastasia leaping into Will’s arms the way she had with Cyrus made Alice burst out laughing. Not that she doubted they could work things out and bring themselves to a new understanding, but the very image of the woman she was accustom to seeing as prim, proper and very in control of her emotions in such a state was beyond funny. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I do hope you both can work things out, but it will take time for you both. Although I have a feeling you both are willing to put in the effort.”

“Something like you and your family? That is going to take a whole lot of work I can tell,” Will stated, standing up from the chair to continue pacing. He did have a goal of wearing a hole in the floor after all.

Edwin smiled sadly from where he stood outside the room, listening to his daughter and her friend talk. When had she grown up? It seemed only yesterday she’d come running home in her little blue dress and white apron spinning fanciful tales of whimsy. Now she was grown, and talking of love as though she’d known what it was for years.

Although, she obviously did, he reasoned. Once he worked his mind around the strange way time passed between various worlds, for all he knew her and Cyrus could have been together for years before they were parted.

“She’s a very strong, bright woman,” a voice next to him commented. He started and turned to see Pari standing nearby, smiling softly.

He nodded, motioning for them to move their talk towards his study. There was no point in letting Alice know he’d been listening, they were working on their strained relationship and he had a feeling that was not going to help matters, in the least.

Once in the room he told Pari to take a seat while he closed the door. He was still a bit shocked at how old the woman was, all of this was so very strange but he was attempting to take it all in stride. He had felt the story she’d been telling could very well be an altered truth, but had never entertained the idea it was simply true.

“It must bring you comfort to have Alice back in your life,” Pari suddenly said, glancing over to Edwin as he walked over towards the chair opposite the one she had sat down in.

He nodded, slowly. “It is, and even more a comfort now to realize all her wild tales are true. Although I had gone to Wonderland I still wasn’t sure any of it was real, as it is hard at times to discern truth from dream. I am glad though to have her back, although it is under rather distressing circumstances, and to have this chance to mend the bridges I burnt all those years ago.”

Pari frowned, her words brought back memories of her husband. If only everyone would be given that opportunity in life, to make amends. If only there was a way to go back, but sadly the past was what it was and was written. To even think of changing it could unravel time itself and cause a ripple affect into the future.

“Did you husband ever come to terms with the last words he gave Cyrus?” Edwin inquired, instantly sensing what Pari was thinking about. “You don’t have to answer if you would rather not, but it is just now hitting me there are some similarities to the treatment our children received from their fathers. It is little wonder they found a kindred in each other.”

“It is amazing they found one another, and I am grateful that Cyrus did find someone to love him for who he is, and saw him as something more than a genie. I had hoped for that, as I feared what that life would do to him as the years turned into centuries. And yes, Naseem did regret his words. Once it was revealed to him why Cyrus had made that deal, the guilt that burdened his heart sickened him. He passed not many years later, the pain of what he’d said was too much for him to bear,” she softly said, glancing towards the fireplace. She frowned, noting the ashes and charred remains of what was once a few thin logs of wood laying within. Something about it brought to mind all she’d lost over the years. At one time she’d had a happy family, but like all things in life it was not meant to last.

Although the memories pained her greatly, she knew all things happened for a reason. No words spoken had ever been enough to ease her husband’s guilty conscious, but at least Raheem had been capable enough to take over for his father as he slowly faded away. It had been partially at her husband’s insistence that she seek out a way to find Cyrus again, to tell him that his father forgave him and had been a fool. Naseem did not want his oldest to spend an eternity believing his father hated him, but knew he wouldn’t live long enough to impart those words himself.

Edwin said nothing, as he knew there were no words that needed to be spoken. He was grateful that, unlike Naseem, he was being given the chance to make up for his past mistakes. He may never atone for every wrong word spoken to his daughter, and every hurt he inflicted by not believing her, but at least he was being given a chance to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am shocked I got this up today. I've begun taking care of my baby nephew four days a week, and that among other commitments is making it difficult to find time to write. I hope to keep up the update schedule on this, but I thought it only fair to say it might not stick. So if in two weeks there isn't an update it isn't that I've abandoned the story, I just haven't finished the chapter yet.
> 
> Hopefully things settle into a routine soon, so I can keep with the writing as I do have so many more OUATIW fanfictions I want to write. Oh yes, and the bit about how to break a genie's will from their master? I did find that in some mythology I read.


	10. Making Amends and a Hasty Return.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edwin is surprised by Alice's thoughts on her previous return from Wonderland, Anastasia finds some unexpected assistance in Wonderland and while preparing a spare room, Sarah and Pari bond a bit.
> 
> And Millie wouldn't mind a better tea party guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

Anastasia wrinkled her nose as she turned towards the dungeon. Obviously Jafar didn’t take her advice on brightening the place up a bit; he really did have a thing for dark and rather dismal looking. Then again, dungeons weren’t meant to be cheery, but the least he could do was make it a little more traditional. The hanging cages really did baffle her, if he thought no one would escape he had thought wrong.

Although, from the smell there were days she wondered if people had tried and failed before. It was a long drop, and it amazed her Cyrus had actually worked up the nerve to attempt an escape. A smile played at the corner of her lips, he certainly wasn’t what she’d expected of a genie in the least.

This time though, as she walked to the edge of the walk way towards the cages, she was fairly certain he hadn’t escaped. There was no, as she put it, Cyrus shaped hole in the bottom of the cage. The door was hanging open and she had her doubts he left of his own choice.

“You there, where is Cyrus?” she inquired, glancing towards the other prisoner. She’d never figured out who he was or what his connection could be to Jafar. The sorcerer was not forthcoming and she’d learned early on in their partnership that asking too many questions of the volatile man was unwise. She rather enjoyed breathing and didn’t want to know what she could say or do which would make him decide her usefulness to him really had expired.

Aamir looked towards the blonde woman, wondering why it had been so long since she had last been around. “I see you’ve begun to favour another colour in your attire,” he commented. There was no reason for her to be asking where the genie was, she knew full well being aligned with Jafar.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, why did everyone have to be so difficult? “Our partnership was ended the moment he tried to kill me. Now, if you can prove to be of some use to me I’ll help you get out of here, but if you shall persist in being a hindrance by evading my question I’ll leave you here to rot.”

“Why should I believe one word you say? You came here once with the intent of taking Cyrus for whatever your personal purpose was. This could be the same,” he argued, not fully trusting her. People lied all the time, he should know. At one time he’d been quite skilled at it himself, having been a Sultan.

This time Anastasia did roll her eyes, before glaring at him. “I am his mistress now, and have two wishes left. I have no desire to use them and do not plan upon it either. I want to find him and bring him back to the realm we are now in, not only to reunite him with Alice but we located his mother. Now, will you help me? I do not know where else Jafar would keep him, nor do I even know if Jafar is here. If you prove of use I shall bring you with us, whatever you did to that madman be damned. Nothing could warrant being kept in a cage.”

Aamir had his doubts, he had wronged Jafar greatly but then the words she spoke were alluring. He’d rather be anywhere else over waiting to see what Jafar’s plans were. He’d refused when Cyrus had wanted to take him along, but this time he knew with magic on the woman’s side there was a higher chance of getting away. “I have a good idea of where he is, but you’ll need someone else to guide you.”

“Well isn’t that wonderful. And who exactly is going to show us to where Cyrus could be?” she snapped. This was getting her nowhere. Bad enough she still needed to find the other two genies as well as the White Rabbit, if he was being held captive as well. She enjoyed a challenge, but this was starting to feel impossible.

Aamir grinned. “There is one guard who may be of use, he is young and I have a feeling would like to find himself as far from Jafar as possible as well. And you are in luck, as he is coming right now.”

Anastasia whirled around to find there was someone standing a few feet away from where she stood. This was a guard she could not recall seeing before, giving her the impression he was brought in after Cyrus killed the one who had tried to apprehend him during his escape. This one was young, appeared to be hardly older than she looked herself. “Does he speak the truth?” she demanded, not feeling an urge to play anymore games. Either he would help her, or he would discover if one died of heart failure from a long drop, or if the sudden stop was what would do it.

Hadi nodded quickly, he had been rather surprised to find a blonde woman talking with the only prisoner left in the dungeon. He’d never figured out why he had to come and make sure the old man was still locked up, it was more than obvious he had absolutely no intention of trying break free. “I know where Cyrus is, and if you shall extend the promise you made to the old man to myself I shall be more than happy to take you to him.”

“Fine, if you do not prove false in your words you shall come with us as well. But I also need to locate the other two genies as well as that blasted White Rabbit, if he is in fact here,” she promised, starting to feel like she was about to take half of Wonderland back with her. “But I’m not hopping to half a dozen realms, I’ve got one way back to where we escaped to and that’s all. And this could all be for naught if Jafar is lurking about.”

She flicked her wrist to bring the hanging cage down, and glared at the young guard. A bit of a smile came over her, although neither man could understand why she was grinning in a rather self satisfied way. As she instructed the guard to let the old man out of the cage she marvelled at how Will thought he’d be able to handle this alone. By now he’d likely have been caught by someone and be in the empty cage she assumed Cyrus had been occupying.

Hadi quickly opened the cage, and Aamir walked out. “You have no need to worry about Jafar, he left not long ago. The White Rabbit escaped and he took with him the other two genies,” he explained, looking back towards Anastasia. “Cyrus is unguarded, as he hardly is ever conscious and when he is he lacks the energy to move. But we should make haste, Jafar may not stay away for long.”

Anastasia nodded as Hadi motioned for them to follow him through the labyrinth that was the halls of Jafar’s hidden castle. She hoped he’d stay gone for awhile searching for the realm hopping rabbit, she wanted to get Cyrus and return to England without any incident.

She knew they at least had Jafar’s determination on their side, if he was set on finding the White Rabbit there was a good chance he wouldn’t be back in any hurry.

**********

Sarah was still having quite a trial processing everything that had happened in such a short span of time. Not only had Alice returned with a former queen and a rather brash young man, but now she was making up a spare room with a woman who was hundreds of years old and had once been married to a Shah in some magical realm or other.

This was not adding in the fact there were other realms, and that the room they were preparing was for her son who was a genie. Or a prince rather, turned into a genie. All of it really was a lot to process.

It felt like a higher power was paying her back for how she’d treated Alice when the girl had returned from Wonderland, distraught that the man she loved had been sent to his death right before her eyes.

“After Alice had vanished from the asylum Edwin had insisted we take these rooms and make them up as bedrooms. This one, I believe, was Millie’s play room. She hardly ever played in here regardless, but it was here if she wanted it for such a use,” she said as they put fresh linens on the bed.

She hated to admit it but it was likely a better use for the room, as well as the one that had once been solely for the purpose of sitting peacefully with a book and the other she used to have solitude whilst working on needlework or sewing. All those tasks could be accomplished in the parlour or the room Edwin used for his study. As to Millie, she played wherever she pleased and rarely even used this room to play in.

“We had rooms like that as well; they were just another room for the servants to clean as no one bothered with them. Unless of course one of my children were hiding away after doing something they were fully aware they were not to do. I am loathed to admit that continued well after they outgrew childhood. It is funny how we find a purpose for a room, and yet never use it for what we set it out for,” Pari commented, turning to pick up the quilt to be spread over the linens.

Sarah nodded, smiling slightly. “I am glad though, that your son has been found. You are both welcome to remain in our home until he is well enough to be moved to your own, that is assuming he needs time to recover from whatever treatment he may have received at this Jafar’s hands.” Saying that name was odd, but not as strange as calling him a sorcerer. She still was having a time wrapping her mind around all of it.

“Hopefully it will be a short recovery, Cyrus has always been resilient.” Although Pari had her doubts this time. She knew of the many ways to cause a genie harm, and this wasn’t going to be the same as when he’d catch a virus that simply had to run its course.

But she pushed those thoughts from her mind. She would remain optimistic that Anastasia would return with her son and he’d merely need a few days of rest before he’d be back to himself. She doubted he would be quite the same person he’d been all those centuries ago, his time serving others will have changed him in a way, but she knew deep down he’d still be her loving and somewhat impulsive child.

“What was he like?” Sarah couldn’t help but wonder, she’d heard the story of the events that led to him being cursed into a bottle but there had been no mention of who he was before that.

As Pari began telling of her oldest son, which slowly turned into stories of all four of her children, Sarah felt a soft smile come over her as she went about straightening up the room. She had rarely associated with other mothers, even after Millie was born, so hearing other’s speak of their children was new to her.

She was beginning to realize she had been missing out on quite a bit. She had no desire to hear every mundane detail, as she’d noticed some mothers were keen on discussing with anyone they could, but it was obvious Pari was not that sort. She told tales of the trouble her sons would get into, namely Faarih who lived for the next trick he could play on his siblings and how Raheem thrived on excelling with his studies and longed to be the heir apparent.

The stories of Cyrus and Nadira though, something in them made her realize she’d robbed Millie of an older sibling in how she’d acted when Alice returned. All she had seen was a threat to the family she had with Edwin and their daughter, in Alice there was a link to a past he still longed for but never spoke of.

“It sounds like they took a new sibling being added to the family in stride well,” Sarah commented, opening a window to let in the afternoon breeze. She recalled when her little brother was born, she’d been a monstrous child over that. If it weren’t for the fact she knew her parents rarely embellished the truth she’d think all the tales they told of her antics were false.

Pari laughed. “Oh no, Cyrus was the worst. He wasn’t impressed with either baby brother but when Nadira was born he was eight years old by then. And he was livid, not to mention very jealous. I had days I feared what he might do to her, as he was sword training at the time and quite talented with a blade as well. Raheem and Faarih weren’t overly thrilled with a little sister either, but with Cyrus I quickly realized he was afraid I’d pay him less attention.” She shook her head at the memory, some of the things he’d done were rather comical.

“Why would he fear losing any attention from you? As a crown prince, he’d be getting more than enough from his father, I assume.” Sarah wasn’t well versed in royalty, but to her way of thinking Cyrus likely was getting nothing but attention from his father.

“I wasn’t pushing him like his father was. Time with his father was always one pressure after another on how to act in the court, the proper way to speak, even how to carry himself. It starts from a very young age, and Cyrus hardly had a chance to be a child like his siblings. I can’t recall now how old he was, but he was hardly three or four before he was being groomed and trained to take the throne. That was why he was so jealous of Nadira, but I worried for nothing. Her first word, as for some reason she took a very long time to begin speaking, was his name. After that, they were inseparable,” she said, sitting down in a chair by the bed.

Pari glanced around the room, it was a very nicely decorated room in true Victorian manner but still so very different from what she was accustom to. Or even what Cyrus would have grown up with. But it was cozy, with a fireplace on the wall across from the bed, two windows that looked out over the gardens and various little trinkets and decorations set upon the mantle as well as the dresser and a small desk over by one window.

And the chair was quite comfortable as well, which she deemed a good thing. For once Cyrus was brought into the room she had little intentions of leaving unless she had to.

**********

Edwin set his cup of tea down, glancing out the window at the rather amusing scene in the garden. He could hear Alice chuckling softly at the sight of her little sister having a tea party with a few of her dolls. It wasn’t an unusual sight to be seen in all honesty from that vantage point in the parlour. It was who Millie had roped into having tea with her and her dolls.

Sitting at the end of the little table with a bit of a scowl on his face was Will. He sat cross legged, as he was too big for the small chairs, holding a little teacup decorated with dainty roses and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but his current location. Yet that wasn’t what was amusing the father and daughter within the house.

Upon his head of closely cropped hair was a crown made of English daisies. The blooms with a rather pinkish hue didn’t really match his dark and out of place attire, as Edwin had yet to get him to his tailor in town, but it was a rather amusing sight to see.

“I am sorry for everything Alice,” Edwin finally said, turning his gaze back to the daughter who had once, so many years ago, spent countless hours in that very garden having tea parties with her own dolls. That was if she wasn’t off on an adventure.

Alice grinned, setting her cup down. “In all truth, I must thank you and Sarah.” She still wouldn’t call Sarah by the title mother, or even step mother. It was still too soon, in her eyes. They were trying to cultivate some sort of relationship, and as they had yet to figure out exactly what it was the title didn’t suit the older woman at all.

Edwin looked at her oddly, cocking an eyebrow questioningly. They’d basically forced her hand and sent her to an asylum, granted that was more Sarah who pushed for that, but he didn’t see why Alice should be thanking either of them. “I’m afraid I do not understand why you are showing any gratitude for the treatment you received upon your last return. I told you your genie, Cyrus, was nothing more than a figment of your over active imagination, and we even tried to make you move on with that Darcy lad. I wasn’t as vocal in the idea of an asylum but still, I did push for it as well. There are no thanks that need be given to either of us.”

Alice shook her head, the corner of her lips quirking upwards in a slight smile. “But if you’d both humoured me, as I had longed for, I may well have moved forward with my life. I know that would have been what you’d consider healthy and ideal, but it would have changed where we are today. Maybe I would have started courting Mrs. Darcy’s son, we could have ended up married and where would Cyrus be? Still trapped in Jafar’s prison for all eternity most likely. And Pari never would have found where her son was, Anastasia would still be running on a delusion that she could change the past if only they could get the third genie back in his bottle and Will would still be in wherever Storybrooke is. I am in no way saying that I am central to all the changes that happened due to going to that asylum, as Anastasia could have come around on her own and Will may have decided to leave Storybrooke himself at some point, and maybe Pari would have found and rescued Cyrus in her own time, but if I had moved forward who knows where any of us would be right now.”

Edwin nodded, glancing back out to the garden when he noticed Will stand up, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away with his head down. He half expected Millie to make chase, but instead she did something he had never noticed her do before. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips and sticking her tongue out at him before returning to her tea party with her dolls.

He chuckled, obviously a little bit of Alice was in his second daughter after all.

**********

He stirred slightly when he felt the feather light touch of someone’s hand on his face, but refused to open his eyes. So long as he kept them firmly shut, he could just imagine anything he pleased and not remember where he was. It struck him strange that Jafar wasn’t being cruel, or the guards, but he didn’t really care right at that moment. It was likely to lull him into some sense of security, and then he’d finally be thrown back into that toxic cage.

Anastasia frowned, why wasn’t he waking? She looked over to Hadi, her icy blue eyes demanding answers that she couldn’t find her voice to ask. She wasn’t one given to emotion too often, not since she’d become a queen, but this was the one person who had spoken up for her and believed she could change. He had even trusted her with his secrets when he had no reason to and believed she could figure out a way to locate his mother. Cyrus had become her first friend in a long time, and she still felt she didn’t even deserve him. It hurt to see him suffering, and knowing if they’d all gotten away that first time none of this would have happened.

She knew everything happened for a reason, but this seemed like a cruel joke dealt by fate. If anyone deserved to be punished she was fairly certain it was her. As the Red Queen she’d performed many cruel acts, she had ignored her subjects and left them to suffer through whatever trials they had while she lived comfortably within her palace. All that had mattered was herself, she had barely shed a tear for her husband when he passed. She had cared about him, but not enough to go into mourning the way it was expected. Although hardly anyone had been aware he’d been ill for a long time, so his passing had been expected and almost a blessing. For him anyway.

Her lack of mourning had only fuelled the belief she was uncaring, and she was more than happy to live up to that expectation in the end. But not in this moment.

“He’s been poisoned, as I said, with silver and salt in his drinking water. We were instructed to force him to drink it, at all cost,” Hadi explained, noting how Aamir shook his head sadly. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but one did not disobey Jafar and live to tell the tale. If you did, your life would not feel as though it was worth living.

She frowned and turned her attention back to Cyrus. She gently ran her slender fingers through his wavy hair, her frown turning into a sad smile. She didn’t want to wake him up, evidently this was some defence against dealing with what had become his reality, but she couldn’t carry him to somewhere with enough space to use the other magic bean.

The sound of him whispering the word mama startled her a bit. He really was trying to find some sort of happy place in his mind. She reached down and took one of his limp hands in her’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “No darling, but we found her. Your mama is waiting for you with Alice and her family, you just need to wake up and we’ll take you to her,” she whispered.

Cyrus wasn’t sure if he’d heard the voice right, it did sound like Anastasia but he worried this was just some trick his mind was playing on him. Or possibly Jafar was behind it. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to open his eyes and find out. There really wasn’t much else the sorcerer could do to make his every waking moment miserable.

Much to his delight, it really was the woman he’d begun to think of as a friend not that long ago. He returned her smile, overjoyed to see her. “Ana, how did you return? It is not safe here, if Jafar...” he began to say when she stopped him.

“That madman is not here at the moment, he’s out searching for that blasted bunny. We need to find your bottle and get out of here before he returns. Can you stand up on your own?” she asked, feeling that she might be insulting him a little with that question but had the impression he wouldn’t feel it was meant in such a way.

Cyrus groaned, he could even though it was difficult. He’d need help, but wasn’t going to ask until he actually required it. He did tell her where his bottle was, and was slightly surprised to see the other prisoner as well as the guard he’d mistaken for his long deceased brother standing in the room as well.

Although he was even more shocked when the White Rabbit, or Percy rather, walked into the room. “I thought I told you not to return,” Cyrus said, drawing everyone’s attention to the new arrival.

Percy shrugged. “You did, I didn’t say I’d listen. Actually, I’m rather glad to see there is some assistance here,” he explained, eyeing the one who was obviously a guard warily. He wondered what he was doing there, but doubted the Red Queen would allow the young man in the room if he were a threat. “I did as you requested, except the last part obviously, and now I’m going to take you to Alice. Or I’m taking all of you obviously, just how did you get back here?”

“A magic bean, and I have another to return us to the realm we found ourselves in after you dug that hole. It is just luck we happened upon someone with magic, or else there never would have been a way to return for Cyrus. We need to get outside though, there won’t be enough room in here to create the portal,” she said as she helped Cyrus up. She’d allowed him to go at it on his own until she could tell it was becoming too much of an effort.

Percy watched as the old man went to the shelf and plucked Cyrus’ bottle off it, deciding obviously these other people were of no consequence. As he’d already observed, there was no way she’d allow any of them to help if they would turn on her. “I can dig a hole in the hallway, and then if any of you long to go somewhere else I’ll take you there as well. You can save that bean for another time,” he told her.

She nodded her thanks, it was rather fortunate that the White Rabbit had shown up and was willing to help all of them. “I am forever in your debt.”

Percy started at that, he never thought he’d hear the proud and seemingly uncaring woman utter such a sentiment. “Well, you really did no harm to my family, as I had feared, so let’s just call this a shaky sort of even and be done. But we should move fast, there is no telling when Jafar may return.”

Anastasia nodded as she and Hadi positioned themselves on either side of Cyrus, putting their arms around his waist to help support him. Aamir followed behind, with the genie’s bottle in his grasp. A part of him felt that maybe he should not be taking part in this escape, as there was somewhere deep inside that believed he did deserve all Jafar’s wrath. He had wronged the sorcerer as a child, he had played a part in sending him down this path of revenge and madness.

Still, if he stayed behind what would the sorcerer do in an attempt to find out where Cyrus had escaped to? Granted he had no idea where the other two genies had been left by the rabbit, but Jafar likely would be unaware of that. Men that filled with anger and set on revenge did not always see reason or think rationally.

Cyrus words all those months ago rang in his ears: no one deserves to be another man’s prisoner. Of course he was speaking from a very different view point, but there was truth in it. He had made a horrible mistake when it came to Jafar, yet at the same time if the boy had just kept to his station things would have been different. He understood all he longed to do was please him, but he could never claim kinship to him, not publicly. They’d both made mistakes, but his was the worst of the two.

“Are you coming?” Anastasia inquired, when she realized he was not following. Her eyes betrayed the disbelief she felt that the man could actually be considering the idea of staying behind.

Aamir shrugged, still a little unsure. He could just hand over the bottle and forget the idea of leaving; it wasn’t as though he had anything to return to. His heir was dead, he had no idea what would have happened to his kingdom after his disappearance and there was a chance whoever had taken the throne would not take kindly to his return either. Cyrus had insisted a new life would await him once beyond the walls of this place, but he had his doubts that he even deserved it.

It would seem the former queen could read his mind. “Look, you can toy with your conscience over whatever you did to raise the ire of the insane sorcerer later. Right now your dallying is only putting us at risk, and I quite frankly don’t want to find myself in one of Jafar’s oversized bird cages. So beat yourself up over past choices once we’re out of here,” she snapped, motioning for him to follow with a jerk of her head.

Aamir nodded, he certainly wasn’t going to argue with her. She may no longer be a queen, but she still carried herself like one, and could command a person in the same regal tone she’d perfected over the years.

He might feel he deserved whatever Jafar could come up with as punishment, but the others certainly did not.

**********

Most everyone else had retired for the night hours ago, yet Alice, Will and Pari were sitting in the drawing room conversing over tea. They’d all lost track of the hour, more intent on staying awake on the slim chance this would be the night Anastasia returned.

It had only been two days, but all three were worried for the former queen as there was no way to tell how long she'd been in Wonderland. After Alice and Will had filled Pari in on what kind of man Jafar was even she began to fret for the woman’s safety. Of course she feared for her son as well, despite the knowledge he was immortal and therefore hard to kill, but it did not mean he could not suffer injury. She also had a hint of concern for his mental state, if the man was given to mind games as well.

Will stretched, yawning loudly. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing anyone arrive tonight from the looks of it. Might be time we all turned in, I’m bloody tired,” he said, glancing towards the clock sitting on the mantle. “And your father is threatening to take me into that tailor of his in the morning to get me some new clothes. Honestly Alice, I don’t know why I have to dress like a stuffed shirt.”

“Because you stick out like a sore thumb here, that’s why. Pari only had two magic beans so you’re going to have to learn to fit in,” she answered, rolling her eyes. He certainly did enjoy being difficult when he could.

“Still would have rather gone back to Storybrooke, at least there we had indoor plumbing and all the rest. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a beautiful home here, but there is something to be said for electricity and hot water in an instant.” He tried not to laugh at the confused look that washed over Alice’s face at the mention of something called electricity. In all truth, if there was a way to return to Storybrooke he’d love to see her reaction to all the modern conveniences there.

Right when Pari was about to agree it was getting late and it was about time they thought about going to bed she noticed something at the end of the garden. It wasn’t the portal the other magic bean should have created, this was more like a little explosion. She could see dirt and even little bits of rocks flying upwards before scattering back towards the ground.

Alice noticed it too, a wide smile coming over her face as she looked to the older woman with excitement shining in her blue eyes. “The Rabbit, Anastasia found the White Rabbit,” she said in a voice laden with excitement. “He brought them safely here.”

Before Will could even process what was going on, both women were on their feet and quickly making their way out of the room, not even stopping to find a wrap to fend off the chilly night air. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, pushing himself up from his chair and following them at a slower pace. “Gonna catch their death, the two of them.”

It was hard to say who was more excited as they quickly ran to the end of the garden, Alice’s eyes were bright with excitement and joy while Pari’s face was lit up with a strange emotion none could identify when they finally laid eyes on Anastasia. It was almost a mix of joy and apprehension, which was something she understood when the woman stopped upon reaching the small group that had returned from Wonderland

A few moments later Will swaggered over, his eyes searching for his two tea companions as all he saw was two men he didn’t recognize in his direct line of vision. “Bloody hell, did she bring a few extras as well? Who are you both, you don’t look like genies.”

Hadi looked at him oddly, wondering what he was getting at. “Of course we’re not genies. My name is Hadi, I was one of Jafar’s guards although I am more than happy to escape his service,” he explained, not bothering to introduce the other man as he had no clue who he was. All he knew of the old man was Jafar had a particularly strong hate for him.

Will was about to inquire as to who the old man was when he heard some movement and realized the reason he hadn’t seen Alice or Pari, or even Anastasia, was because they were kneeling on the ground. He looked down to find Pari cradling her son as best she could close to her, tears in her eyes. Alice was close by, gripping one of Cyrus’ hands in hers while Anastasia was explaining what she’d been told of the treatment he’d received and how long it had been since they’d all been parted in Wonderland.

Through all of it Cyrus remained unconscious, which gave Will some concern. He knew jumping through the portal the rabbit created was hardly the most delightful experience to be had, but the genie had to be in rough shape if he was not rousing at the sound of voices close by. It would likely be wise to get him inside and in bed, and possibly in something clean.

“It is getting rather cold out here, we should get him inside,” he finally suggested, to which Pari nodded, reluctantly allowing both Will and Hadi to take her son from her. Unlike the last time she’d held him close, she knew she was going to see him again.

Alice watched as Pari followed the other two men who were supporting her son up to the house, and turned to Anastasia and the stranger with a bit of a smile. “I don’t think I could find words to fully express my gratitude for this,” she said. “Although, I would love to know who you are?”

Aamir was about to answer when Anastasia jumped in. She glanced at the older man with a spark of anger in her eyes. “He’s the weak link I should have left behind. The old fool dropped the bottle, I don’t know why any of us can keep a handle on the bloody thing, but this time I need not assume Jafar may have it as I know he does. I saw him pick it up just before I followed them into the rabbit’s hole.”

There was a slight surge of panic that rushed through Alice at those words, it would have been ideal if the bottle had come with them as then it would have left Jafar with nothing that could be used to magically track Cyrus, or for him to return to should Anastasia mistakenly use her last two wishes.

But there was nothing to do for it, what was done was done and they could only hope for the best. She would not allow fear and worry to dampen this moment. The man she loved was finally returned to her, and even more a mother had finally located her lost son.

That still didn’t answer her question though. “Well, we can’t do anything about the bottle right now. Maybe later Rabbit can take you back to see if you can retrieve it, but I still would like to know who you are.”

“My name is Aamir, I was the other prisoner Jafar kept other than Cyrus,” he told her, waiting for the inevitable question as to who he was to the sorcerer but to his surprise it never came. All that Alice did was nod, and then say they should all return to the house, as she felt it wise to wake her father at the very least and inform him what had happened.

The last thing she needed was for him to be taken by surprise in the morning when he found a house full of guests which were not there when he’d gone to sleep the night before.

**********

It was early morning and Millie was pacing outside the room that once had housed her toys. She wasn’t angry she’d lost her toy room, as she’d hardly ever used it as it was, but she wanted to see the prince from the stories. He had captured her imagination and she’d spent countless hours creating a happy ending for him, one in which a beautiful princess would find him and break his curse with true love’s kiss.

Sarah may have kept books filled with fanciful tales of princesses and the likes out of the house, but it hadn’t stopped Millie from finding them regardless. She didn’t spend all her days confined to her family home, she had friends who delighted in such tales and had no issues pouring over the beautifully illustrated books with her when she was visiting.

Millie wanted to see him, to see what he looked like. For now she had to content herself to sitting in a patch of morning light coming in through the nearby hall window once pacing became pointless, listening as Pari sang a lullaby within the room. It was so soothing it was almost putting her back to sleep where she sat with her head resting against the wall.

“Hey kid, what are you doing?” a voice asked from above, and she glanced up to see Will standing a few steps away. He knelt down beside her, grinning slightly. She was still a bit annoyed he hadn’t stuck around for her tea party, but was over it. He hadn’t been much fun anyway. So far as she was concerned he had absolutely no imagination.

“I want to see the prince, why can’t I go in?” she asked, a bit of a sulky tone in her voice as she glanced towards the closed door. It was her house, why was she being kept out? “I don’t understand why I can’t go in.”

Will moved to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Well, I can’t say for certain why you’re not allowed in the room but I’ve been in there a few hours ago. Cyrus isn’t awake for starters, he hasn’t woken up since he arrived and he looks pretty bad. Has anyone explained how time moves to you between realms?”

Millie shook her head, no one had told her anything. “No, I’m not old enough to know anything. Soon I’ll be old enough to know everything, at least I think I will be,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest and making Will chuckle softly.

“I don’t think it is because you’re too young Millie, it has likely slipped everyone’s mind is all,” he told her, just before beginning to tell her about the way time moved between realms which explained, in a way, why the Cyrus he’d seen last night wasn’t the person he’d last seen not long ago. Or at least not long ago for him, as it had been quite awhile for the genie since they’d all been parted that day.

Anastasia was coming up the staircase to see if Pari needed anything, as Alice and Sarah had actually given the cook the day off in a way, merely sending her to town to retrieve ingredients for soups and light broths, as they had decided to do the cooking. At first she’d found that odd, but Sarah had explained that as a child she’d delighted in cooking and caring for others, and although she did have Millie to care for, she needed to somehow make amends with Alice.

This was a small overture, but it was a start. Anastasia had simply nodded, she didn’t fully understand but she wouldn’t argue it either. She could tell Alice longed to go sit with Cyrus again but wanted to allow his mother time with him. She’d had countless years of adventure with him, and their separation had been nothing compared to that of the one Pari had.

A soft smile crept over her face as she stood at the end of the hall, listening to Will talk to Millie. She leaned against the wall, her mind wandering. This was the man she remembered all those years ago, who would sit and talk things out with a child who didn’t understand something. The man who actually cared about others and would take the time to help. She wouldn’t have ever labelled him as self sacrificing, as there were times he would only help if it would benefit him in some form, and he also put himself first in other cases, refusing certain people if he felt it was not in his interest to be of assistance, but the ones he never pushed aside were children.

She still wasn’t sure if they’d ever get back the relationship they’d once had, in truth she doubted they’d ever have that again. They’d both changed over the many years since that fateful night she’d attempted to steal the crown jewels. As much as she would like to delude herself and believe they could just pick up where they’d left off, she knew it wasn’t possible.

But in this moment she began to entertain they could start over, they could begin to forge a new love and relationship that would hopefully be much stronger than the one both the wide eyed dreamers in the Enchanted Forest had delighted in.

“Do you think he’ll forgive you?” a voice nearby asked.

She started slightly, not having heard anyone come up the stairs, or even noticed anyone stop next to her. She glanced around, and finally looked down to see the White Rabbit standing near her, looking up at her with his pink eyes. “I don’t know, he may forgive but some transgressions cannot be forgiven completely. I would not turn down an opportunity to start over.”

Percy nodded, glancing over to the object of the woman’s affection. He had a feeling it would take a lot of work, but knew that she was determined and if Will was in the frame of mind to start over, they would find a way to make it work.

Anastasia drew her gaze away from Will and Millie, looking back at the rabbit and raising one elegant eyebrow curiously. “How is it you’re still here? I would think you’d give Edwin and Sarah cause for a heart attack merely at the sight of you.”

That assessment caused Percy to laugh slightly. “I can’t say they don’t jump slightly when I walk into a room, but I should be leaving at some point in the next day or two. Hadi wants to go back to his home and family, so I shall take him there and return to where my family is now,” he explained.

“They are not in Wonderland any longer?” she inquired, never having entertained the thought a family of upright walking and talking rabbits could live in another realm outside of Wonderland. At least there anything seemed to go, and nothing was impossible.

Percy shook his head, his long ears flapping a bit at the motion. “Of course not, after Cyrus asked me to take the other two genies I went to my family and moved them to another realm. Wonderland isn’t the only one talking creatures exist, just so you know. I couldn’t risk Jafar taking his rage out on them. Unlike you, I doubt he would have just hidden them away,” he told her, his mind wandering back to that awful day Jafar had shown just how cruel and sadistic he could be.

A sad smile flitted across Anastasia's face, she'd been considered cruel and uncaring but even she had lines she would have never crossed. “Yes, well I am not and never was Jafar by any means. But I am glad you returned to offer your aide, even though I am assuming you thought you would be dealing solely with a very, very stubborn Cyrus.”

Laughter came from the rabbit as he shook his head. “Oh yes, I did expect to deal with only Cyrus, who is far from compliant when he has his mind set on something. Unless of course your name is Alice that is, but it was rather fortunate to have run upon a little rescue party. It seems fortune smiled upon him,” Percy said.

Anastasia nodded, it seemed that way indeed. “Luck does seem to favour him more often than not.”

**********

Edwin wasn't used to a house full of people. It had always been just himself and Alice, whenever she wasn't missing on some adventure. The last time she'd disappeared he had been alone for a long time, not bothering with many in the world outside his door. Not until the woman he'd hired as a cook basically told him to go out, as he was becoming the most pathetic human being she'd ever seen in her life.

That was when he'd met Sarah, on a walk through a park in London. It wasn't love at first sight, but they'd formed a friendship that slowly turned into more. He knew many saw nothing more than a prim and proper woman set on rules of society, but to him she was a very warm and loving person. If she hadn't been, he never would have married her.

His life was moving again, instead of feeling stuck in the moment his first wife had died. He felt guilty over that, why hadn't he been willing to move forward for Alice? He shouldn't have ruined her childhood with his grief, and his unwillingness to actually look at her as she grew into a childlike image of her late mother.

But the past was the past, and it could not be changed. No matter how much you willed it, or as it turned out wished it. Edwin was still wrapping his mind around the fact magic did exist, and there was actual rules involved. What he'd thought was simply part of fairy tales for children was real. But then, he now had a former queen of Wonderland, a thief from the Enchanted Forest, a young man who had worked for a sorcerer the wife of a Shah, a dethroned Sultan, prince turned genie and a talking rabbit under his roof.

It was a little hard to argue the concept that magic couldn't be real now.

Edwin walked towards the stairs, smiling as the faint sound of Pari's singing carried through the house. This was all very strange and hard to comprehend at times, but in the end he was glad to have Alice back in his life, and that she hadn't taken off with her new friends to avoid the woman he had married in her absence.

Sarah had confided she had made many mistakes when it came to Alice, and was hopeful they could have some sort of relationship. She had no false illusions that the young woman would ever refer to her as mother, but she did hope they could have something that might be labelled a friendship.

“That is a pretty song,” a voice near him stated. He turned to find Sarah standing there, glancing up the stairs towards the second floor of the house.

He nodded, it was even if no one could figure out what she was saying. It was obvious these different realms had various languages, just like the world they lived in. “Taking a break from cooking are you?” he inquired.

“Yes, but in truth there isn't much else to do at the moment. The broths and such are simmering, I don't think it would be wise to make anything heavier. What I saw of Cyrus, he didn't look well.” That was a bit of an understatement, her father had been a doctor and she'd delighted in following him on house calls. If times had been different, she would have liked to have followed in his footsteps, but women were not allowed in medical school.

“I can tell you have a prognosis,” Edwin said, his voice a touch worried. He reminded himself the man was immortal and couldn't die, but it didn't mean he couldn't suffer illness.

Sarah played with her dress for a moment, brushing off some specks of dirt she had more imagined then actually seen. She sighed, she knew nothing of genies but from what she'd been told of what had happened in Wonderland she had her doubts he'd ever be the man Alice remembered again. “Hadi said he was poisoned quite frequently on a daily basis to weaken him to a point he wouldn't try to escape again, and instead of just putting him in a toxic environment they put the toxins in his water to consume. His body can't process them, they're in his system and I'm not sure if he will completely recover. If he were human, he'd likely be fine in a few days or maybe a week or two, but as a genie? It actually is rather heartbreaking to think he is finally with his mother again but is likely too ill to really enjoy the time with her, that is if he's woken up yet.”

Edwin frowned, shaking his head. His mind had wandered close along what his wife had just stated, but didn't want to say anything of it, and especially not to Alice. His daughter had adopted a hope eternal sort of mind set, which he had a feeling came from her time spent with Cyrus. She was certain he would soon be the man she knew and loved, full of life and ready for another adventure. But looking at Pari a few hours ago when he'd come to check to see if she required anything, he could see in her eyes that she worried he may never be the person she remembered again. At least not the son who was full of energy and getting himself into some sort of trouble from time to time, it seemed a mother always knew these things. Still, it was more than obvious she was just glad to have him in her life again, and would take it one day at a time.

With those thoughts racing through his mind, he moved towards the staircase to check on his new guests again. He glanced back towards Sarah to see if she was coming along. Edwin almost laughed at the befuddled look that crossed her face. “I would think, seeing as he looks like we do if you disregard the bindings on his wrists, a genie wouldn't be troubling you that much,” he said, a soft chuckle following the statement.

Sarah shot him an annoyed glare. “It isn't Cyrus, but there is a talking rabbit up there. In a waistcoat, trousers and carrying a pocket watch. Excuse me if it takes me a few more moments to accustom myself to the idea we have a talking rabbit in the house before I follow you.”

At that Edwin couldn't help himself, he burst out in laughter. It was rare to see his normally very collected wife flustered over anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this was worth the wait, and people are still interested in the story. I can't give an estimate on when the next chapter will be ready. I am hoping to get a lot of it written this week when I don't have my sister's kids around (seeing as watching them has turned into a 12 hour day and that isn't fair on so many levels).
> 
> But this will be finished. I already have it plotted out, just need to write it. I'm also fairly sure I caught any spelling mistakes, but if they're there forgive me. I'm not sure if I've got allergies or I picked up a cold.


	11. Love Breaks All.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pari is finally reunited with her son, but it appears the treatment he received at the hands of Jafar may have long lasting effects. Anastasia decides it is time to have a little talk with the object of her affections and Cyrus learns what happened after he was cursed.
> 
> Jafar makes plans to retrieve his genies, until an occurrence that bodes ill for anyone who longed to break the laws of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.
> 
> As well I am so sorry this took two months! On an upside, the epilogue is written, I just want to play around with it for a day or two before posting. Also, in case anyone is interested in the lullaby Pari sings I searched Youtube until I came upon this one: _Lalalala Gohle Laleh_ , in case anyone wants to listen to it.

There was something comforting and familiar about the voice softly singing. The song was one he knew well, even though he'd not heard it in centuries. It lulled him into a sense of security, as though nothing could ever harm him again so long as he was with the person who was singing.

At one time, in a long distant past, he'd believed that with all his heart and soul. And it had been true. Wasn't that why he'd given up everything? He'd given up his title, his right to the throne and his mortal life for the sake of her. He had made himself a slave, all for her and his family. So long as his mother lived, his family would still have that one person who grounded them, the one they could turn to when the whole world was coming apart around them.

As someone gently caressed his face, Cyrus leaned into their touch. He still didn't know who it was, but he knew it wasn't Alice. The voice did not belong to her, and he was well aware she could not speak the language he had as a mortal. That had been one of the few gifts that came with being a genie; whatever language his master spoke he could as well.

The voice, he couldn't stop focusing solely on the voice. The words didn't matter so much, they were the soft words of a lullaby he and his siblings had grown up with. One they'd heard often as they were being lulled to sleep on a warm evening, and even as they each grew older they still loved to hear it when they were unwell. Something about hearing that particular lullaby made them feel safe.

But he knew it couldn't be her; it couldn't be the one person he longed to see again. She was long dead, and if he ever returned to his own realm, to the kingdom that was meant to be his to rule one day, he'd only find her final resting place. That was the only place he'd find her, resting eternally with his father as well as Raheem, Faarih and Nadira, along with the empty grave that was supposedly where he had been laid to rest not long after his mother's miraculous recovery from the illness that had taken his beloved sister.

This could all be a trick of Jafar's, although he couldn't understand why the sorcerer would allow him to rest in such comfort. Wherever he was, his senses becoming more aware as he slowly awoke from a long slumber, it was far more comfortable then even the cushions the man had allowed him. He knew Jafar could be cruel and rather sadistic, but this was a bit much.

There was a foggy memory of Anastasia, but he couldn't discern if that had truly happened now or if it was just a dream. He'd been having trouble of late trying to tell reality from figments of his imagination, it could have simply been his desperation to escape that had caused that dream. He was fully aware that his friend had no way back to Wonderland, and he was effectively trapped.

Still, his naturally hopeful nature began to win out. There was always a chance she had been there, with Percy as well as the old man and the guard he'd mistaken for his long dead brother. It could have been real, he hoped it had been. What would life be without hope to get one through? Even if he was becoming more convinced with each passing second this was an elaborate trick, he had to look to be certain.

Cyrus chanced opening his eyes. He had to know if this was just some twisted and cruel illusion to break him fully. If it was, Jafar had gone about it slightly wrong. Nothing in the room was familiar to him, it was not like what he had grown up accustom to it. That wasn't to say the room wasn't beautifully furnished and decorated, but it certainly wasn't the splendour he'd grown up knowing and even taking for granted. As he took it all in, it put him in mind of some of Alice's descriptions of her home.

Why trick him with visions of a place he'd never been? And if so, why wasn't Alice the one sitting near him, singing softly? Nothing about this made sense, if this was to torture him further Jafar was going about it all wrong. He longed to be with Alice of course, but it would have made more sense to create an illusion of somewhere that was dear to them both.

The sound of a door opening caught Cyrus' attention, but he continued to keep his gaze fixed on the open window close to him. A soft breeze was blowing in, causing the lace curtains to dance slightly and the breeze was scented with a flower he didn't know. It was pleasant though, and he hoped this wasn't some cruel trick.

“Has he woken yet?” a male voice asked in a tone barely above a whisper. Cyrus didn't recognize it, nor did he know the woman who suddenly came into his line of vision as she walked around the bed to pull the window closed a bit.

The woman had noticed he was awake, and smiled softly at him. He could tell she was a bit uneasy, either by his presence or something else he was unaware of. Maybe this was a place without magic, people that did not grow up around it or even aware that it was real could be a little more cautious. Something about that thought actually brought a bit of comfort, maybe these people wouldn't want wishes. That was if Anastasia held on to her final two as she had promised, but then Alice had sworn not to use hers.

Cyrus was aware she was forced into the first two, but at the same time it had still stung when she'd made her first wish. The feelings of hurt and betrayal that had washed over him when she'd made it had almost been overwhelming, still he'd been able to hide it when Jafar had come to gloat over what he'd managed to do.

Instead of giving into despair though, and waiting for Alice to be forced into the last two, he'd put the feelings of betrayal to good use in escaping. He was never one to give up hope, no matter how dire the situation seemed to be.

“He looks awake,” the woman said, moving towards his bedside. He started a bit until he realized she was simply wanting to be sure he was warm enough, as she'd taken a light blanket off a nearby chair. Although he'd become used to Alice fretting about him at times, it was still a bit odd when anyone else did so.

He didn't think on it for very long, as next he heard the one voice he'd been aching to hear speak to him again for centuries. She didn't say much, all she spoke was his name but it was enough to draw his attention away from the stranger fussing with the blankets.

Cyrus turned to face who had been singing, and who was currently running her fingers through his hair. “Mama,” he whispered, his voice strained a bit with emotion.

Pari smiled, unable to form any words for a moment or two. In a way, she had felt like her son did in that moment. But in her case she thought she'd never find him again, or when she did he would be so altered he wouldn't be the child she had loved and held dear in memories. There had been sleepless nights she feared he'd have been beaten into submission to a point he would be nothing more than a magical slave to man, and no longer her beautiful and smart son.

She removed her fingers from his wavy hair, and clasped one of his hands firmly in both of hers', the smile on her lips only growing as she saw the realization that this was real flit through her son's eyes. He was every bit the child she remembered, she knew he would be changed in some ways, as he'd spent centuries as a genie and would probably never lose all the mannerisms and habits he'd acquired over time, but she could still see her son within those dark eyes. Her beautiful, impetuous and brave first born son.

“How are you still alive?” Cyrus asked, his voice still rough due to the ache of his throat after all the salt and silver tinged water. “It has to have been centuries since that night in my room.” He was certain of it, time was hard to discern the passing of in a bottle, but he was positive it had been far longer than just a few decades.

Pari gently squeezed his hand, looking at him with a bit of sadness in her eyes. Of course he wouldn't come to the proper conclusion. Cyrus was intelligent, she could tell time hadn't dulled him, but it did give her a bit of surprise he didn't come to the answer on his own. “Magic, my dear son. I found a man skilled in the art to teach me how to prolong my life.”

Cyrus looked at his mother, tilting his head slightly as a frown graced his face. “Why? Were you not happy with father and my brothers?” he inquired, his confusion more than evident in his voice. “You look barely a few years older than you have remained in my memories.”

Pain clouded Pari's face, and when Sarah noticed it she motioned to Edwin they should leave the room. Although she longed to hear more of the story, she could tell this was truly not a moment meant for strangers. The reunion between mother and son really wasn't something they should have been there for either, but in this she would make sure they were out of the room.

Edwin nodded when he noticed the gesture from his wife. He stood from the chair he had been seated in, but before walking towards the door he moved towards the young man, or genie rather, laying in the bed. “I simply want to welcome you into my home, Cyrus. I am Alice's father, Edwin, and it is an honour to finally meet the man who gave my daughter everything I was unable to.”

Cyrus looked up at the older man, at least in looks but not years, and smiled a bit. Part of him wanted to be angry at him, this man had caused Alice a great deal of grief and had made her feel as though she was unloved. He longed to tell him every little thing his daughter had ever doubted about herself, thanks to him, but knew it would do no good. And it would be wrong to return hospitality with rude behaviour.

“Thank you,” he returned, his voice soft. Hopefully in the coming days he'd be able to speak with the man, and possibly begin to understand him. Cyrus had lived long enough to know every action, no matter how ill informed or hurtful, was always a reaction to something else. It baffled him how the death of his wife could cause him to shut out his daughter, but possibly he would figure it out.

Sarah tapped her husband on the shoulder, again motioning him out of the room. It was more than obvious to her by the look in Pari's eyes that whatever tale she had for her son, it was not one for their ears. Not now. And whatever it was, there was going to be no joy to be had in it either.

***********

“We need to talk.”

Will groaned, this seemed to the be the phrase of the day. Alice seemed to be in constant discussions with Sarah, as the two tried to repair some of the damage done upon her last return from Wonderland. It was obvious the relationship would remain strained for a time yet, but as he'd said to Edwin, or Jafar rather disguised as Edwin, Alice always did the right thing.

Unlike himself. Ever since Cyrus had wished him back his heart, he was beginning to realize how foolish a move allowing Cora to remove it had been. Running from your problems, or feelings, was not a healthy way to live. Everyone dealt with them in their own ways, he knew that much, but it was quite possible he had been acting more like a child than a mature adult. Everyone longed to be empty at times, it was an attractive option over feeling the pain of betrayal or loss, but looking back he was coming to the realization it was a horrible way to live.

He looked up from the book he had been perusing, not finding Victorian literature much to his liking. What he'd give to get back to Storybrooke and watch one of those reality shows he was rather addicted to, but he was stuck for the time being. A bit of a smile played on his lips when he saw Anastasia standing in the doorway of the study, a serious expression on her face. “So talk,” he told her, setting the book aside and leaning back in the wing chair he was seated in.

Anastasia sighed, he never was much for being serious. At least not very often, and at times that was a bit frustrating. Years upon years ago she would have found it endearing but at the moment it was leaning more to annoying. She pushed down the annoyance and moved towards the chair across from him.

The years had changed them both in subtle ways. Neither were the wide eyed dreamer that had jumped through the Looking Glass anymore, Wonderland had not given either of them the sense of wonder or fulfilment they'd longed for. Not in the way it had for Alice. For them, it had been heartbreak and sorrow. Although she did not regret her decision to marry the Red King, at least not fully. She knew she would always look back on her time in that realm with some level of sadness.

“We can't go back to the way things were, you know that,” she finally stated, looking into Will's eyes. She wasn't sure what he expected, but felt it best to lay it out plain.

He nodded a bit, that was something he was fully aware of. Not that he wanted that, he didn't want to go back to how they once were. They were no longer who they used to be, it would be foolish to think they could just pick up where they'd left off before Cora had entered both of their lives. “I kinda figured that, but what do you want to do? There are two of us in this relationship, so we can't exactly rush headlong into something the other doesn't want.”

At his words, Anastasia couldn't contain the shock that washed over her face. Out of all the statements she'd expecting out of him, that was the furthest one to have ever crossed her mind. Once the shock wore off, she quirked an eyebrow as a wry smile graced her face. “I see your time with Alice changed you.”

“Yeah well, she has that effect on you,” he answered, shrugging. It wasn't just Alice who had made a change in him though, and the funny part was the other person had hardly even spoken with him. It was seeing what he'd lost that had given Will an eye opener, that life wasn't always what we wanted it to be but one couldn't run from their feelings. “Honestly, it was that sketch book I found in Cyrus' bottle. That was his family, he'd spent his time between masters drawing them so he would remember what they looked like. I just lost you, and yeah, it almost killed me but the idea of losing your family is just hard to wrap my mind around. Or losing you permanently to death. I know why he did what he did, but I just can't fully understand how hard that must've been, and then to go from a crown prince to a slave? He must have loved them a lot to do what he did.”

That seemed to be an understatement, to Will's mind anyway. Even as he spoke the words he knew Cyrus was the type who loved intensely. His firm belief in love was unwavering, it was no wonder Alice had responded to it in the way she did. She was lacking love and had found one person who had nothing but love to give, but no one to give it to.

“Yes, well it is amazing what someone will do for those they love,” Anastasia replied, a bit of a bitterness lacing her voice.

“Trying to imply something there are you?” Will didn't consider himself highly intelligent by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn't dense enough that he didn't catch the underlying meaning in her tone and words. But he'd still make her spell it out, just to be sure he was right.

She glared at him, a bit of fire flashing in her blue eyes. “Why do you think I agreed to become the Red Queen, hmm?”

Will shrugged lazily. “Power, pretty jewels and dresses. And those Tweedle lackeys, everyone likes having a lackey or two they can boss around. I know I'd have loved one, still would actually. That one you beheaded, any chance you could reattach his head?” It still shocked him how ruthless the girl he'd fallen in love with all those years ago had become, but then desperate times called for desperate measures.

If you were going to send Jafar a message, it had to be a grand one.

A bit of a growl escaped the former queen's lips as she stood from where she was seated. She paced the room in short, yet elegant, steps. She may no longer be a queen but she'd be damned if she'd lose any of her elegance or poise. “It was to protect you, you bloody fool. After we were thrown out of that ball, do you not think the king would put two and two together when he caught me stealing the crown jewels? Do you think I wanted either of us to die over that failed escapade? Do you think I wanted my failed plan to cost you your life? I agreed to marry him to protect you!”

Will was not easily rendered speechless, he could usually find a retort for any situation. Whether it was witty or just plain daft depended on his mood, but this time he had nothing to say. All he could do was look at her wide eyed, his mouth just slightly agape. It had never occurred to him she'd done it for him, to protect him from what vengeance the king would exact on them both for that attempted theft. It took him a few moments before he collected his thoughts again, and stood to walk over to the woman he'd once loved with all his heart and soul. The one he would have done anything for, the one he'd risked the ire of a sorceress for all in a bid to find their happy ending in Wonderland.

He moved towards her, stopping her pacing by placing his hands on her slender shoulders. He gazed into her crystal blue eyes, a serious expression taking over his features. “I didn't realize, Cora told me some pretty lies and I thought you wanted the king.”

Anastasia snorted, of course Cora was the one who instigated it all. She should have known better, but then she had been young and overwhelmed with everything happening around her. And she could admit to herself the lure of power was just a bit attractive after having none all her life. “I guess we've both learned a hard lesson,” she said, turning her face away and looking down towards the carpet.

At that, Will reached out and lifted her face back towards him. He smiled slightly at her. “Well, you don't grow without some heartache. Pretty sure a certain genie told me that, or something close to it. We can't go back to who we used to be, or even have that love those two naive kids had, but we could see where life could take us now. Maybe we'll find love with one another again, and maybe this time it will be a stronger love unlike before. You know, the unwavering love that Alice and Cyrus have for one another. What do you say Anastasia?”

She smiled slightly, blushing. “Call me Ana.”

***********

It had been a few days since Anastasia had returned with Cyrus, as well as the few others, in her company. Percy had taken Hadi back to his realm as he longed to reunite with his family and the rabbit had bid them farewell for the time being, taking off to whatever world he'd moved to with his family.

Alice hadn't been overly surprised when the old man, who she later learned was named Aamir, decided to stay in England. She had been more than surprised to learn he was Jafar's father, and she was pretty sure the shock had been more than evident on her face when he'd revealed that.

He'd told her the whole story over tea one evening, while they sat in the bedroom where Cyrus was recovering. The genie had slept the entire time, so their voices had been soft, but she was rather shocked by his story. She knew the anger that had flashed through her blue eyes at one particular point in his tale had been very obvious, and although she did not agree with what he did she remembered her lessons as a child. As well as the few stories Cyrus had told her when he'd been awake and had the energy to related tales of his mortal life.

At times she found it hard to work her mind around the idea that the man she was going to marry came from a background where that practice was considered normal, but was more than assured that he would never do something like that to her. He loved her, with all his heart and soul, there was no chance he would hurt her intentionally.

Aamir's reluctance to admit what he'd done wrong, and how he was truly the one to blame for what Jafar had become, was frustrating. She wanted to argue with him, to make him see his crime and admit to it, but Pari had been the one to explain why he never would. She'd noticed many children in her own palace that bore uncanny resemblances to her children and husband, but had kept her silence. Cyrus could remember a serving boy that was his, one he was convinced was a half brother and appeared very close in age to himself.

Pari had explained the sultan's actions to her, and she'd been reluctant to understand, but when Cyrus elaborated on the question of who would be heir to the throne, she began to reluctantly see it from the sultan's point of view. Even Cyrus had been worried to say anything about his one servant, the boy had a nasty disposition as it was, and he had always been convinced it was because the servant knew who his father was and harboured a great deal of jealousy. He'd also entertained the idea the servant was a bit older than himself, and if that was the case with Jafar there was no chance Aamir would have claimed him.

Other than that difference of opinion, she found Aamir wasn't a hard man to get along with, so long as you avoided any talk of his life as a sultan. He could become a little insufferable with his views then, but he'd been a friend to Cyrus so she couldn't fully dislike him.

She pushed all that from her mind as she walked slowly through the garden surrounding her family home. It was hard to look at Cyrus and think of him as anything other than the man she loved, she still found it strange to think he was once a prince even though there were some mannerisms that shone through making it almost obvious. The centuries spent as a genie hadn't dimmed all his training for the throne.

But the last day or so he'd become a bit distant, and she couldn't figure out why. When she'd finally seen him after he had awakened there was something wrong. She could sense it, but he didn't voice it to her. It was more than apparent his secretive streak was still very strong. Alice still had her moments of irritation that he'd planned to allow her to believe he was nothing more than a genie, and had every intention of letting her think that until the day she died.

Alice sighed, maybe his time as a genie had affected him in some ways, if he thought that way. She was resolved to have a little chat with him about that, as she turned towards where her father had placed a bench among some tall trees and a few rose bushes. It was a welcome sight to find Cyrus seated there, gazing at the flowers.

She walked over and sat beside him, instantly picking up on the sadness that had been radiating off him for days. “What is troubling you?” she inquired, taking both his hands in her's. All she wanted was for him to talk to her, whatever was bothering him couldn't be so horrible that he had to suffer it alone.

Cyrus looked towards Alice, a sad smile forming before it faded. He didn't want to bring her down, not now when she had her own family back. He'd observed them during meals, and even though he could sense the tension between Alice and her step mother, it was clear they were trying to find a common ground. It was slow, but at least they were trying this time around.

Edwin, on the other hand, was more than overjoyed to have Alice back and was unbelieving still that she forgave him of everything that had happened on her last return. That didn't give Cyrus much of a surprise, Alice was possibly the most forgiving person he'd ever met. He was certain it would take a lot to raise her ire enough that she would refuse to give someone forgiveness.

“It is nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he told her, moving his gaze away from her face. He hoped she would leave it at that, but when he felt her arms around his upper body, pulling him close, he knew that was not going to happen.

Alice held him close to her, in the way he would when she was upset. Whatever was bothering him, it was something she wanted to know. “If we're to share a life together, my love, I think your problems should be something you share with me. We can't work together if we refuse to share our troubles. Please, Cyrus, tell me what it is, maybe I can help you through it, or at the very least it could lessen the burden to share.”

The silence seemed to be her answer, he wasn't going to tell her anything and she could feel her aggravation only grow. She wasn't going to snap at him since it would serve no good, but right when she was about to leave him to his sorrow she heard him speak. “My father, he died a few years after I was cursed. Mama told me that his final words directed towards me were what ate away at him, until he died of the guilt and a broken heart. I wanted them to live happily, to be together and move forward, yet his regret of one past action stole his life. Mama found out from Faarih what exactly had happened, and when she'd confronted him he'd broken down and never was himself again.”

Cyrus blinked his eyes a few times, he was not going to shed anymore tears. His father had died centuries ago, and in the long run that was only one death unlike the many that would have occurred if he'd not bargained his own for those vials. If he was honest with himself, he thought his father's anger would carry him through. The man rarely forgave something he considered to be a great offence towards him, being a Shah. Their relationship in the last few years before he'd been cursed had been strained, he never would have thought his father would actually grieve for him to the point of succumbing to death.

The feather soft touch of Alice's lips against his cheek caught him a bit off guard. When she pulled away he glanced at her, a quizzical expression coming over his features. “Oh Cyrus, you are one of a kind I'm certain. I've never met anyone who could care as much as you do for others. Despite everything, and I know there must've been very dark times in your travels, you still care deeply for those around you. I'm sorry about your father, for all of it, but I will be your family now. Even my father has taken a shine to you, as well as Sarah. Which, come to think of it, is rather strange, but she seems to like you. When you were brought in she actually took over and ordered us all around to make sure you'd be comfortable. Her and your mother actually, no one wanted to get on the wrong side of either of them. It was the strangest thing I've ever seen. And Millie thinks you're the most wonderful person she's ever met.”

The words Alice spoke did bring a smile to Cyrus' face, he did like her family. He'd been warming up to Edwin, and his resentment for how he'd treated Alice had begun to fade. The reasoning behind why he'd made Alice feel unloved and unwanted wasn't something Cyrus could easily forgive, but he understood. Sarah was constantly hovering around, which was a bit alarming at times until he had quickly realized she was not just trying to make sure he was comfortable and taken care of, she was also trying to bridge the gap with her step daughter. At first he'd been annoyed that he was possibly being used, but after awhile realized that wasn't the case.

Cyrus had actually spent the morning talking with Sarah and Millie, while Pari, Edwin and Anastasia had dragged Will into town to be fitted for clothing more appropriate for Victorian life. The man had carried on quite a bit, and even tried to get Cyrus to take his side, to no avail. In the end Alice had finally decided to tag along as well, so at least there would be a fourth to attempt to keep him in line.

His time with Sarah had given him all he'd needed to realize why she was being so attentive towards him, it wasn't just to show Alice she wanted to forge some type of relationship with her, but her father had been a doctor and it was almost second nature to her to help. People thought her unkind, but she'd seen Alice as a threat when she'd returned the first time and had responded in a bit of a panicked way. She had regretted her actions deeply later on, but at the time had felt justified in what she'd done. Alice was a link to a past Edwin had mourned for a very, very long time, and she feared he would lose himself to those memories again.

The sadness slowly left his face, and he turned to smile softly at Alice. “Thank you,” he simply said, reaching up and resting a hand on her shoulder.

Alice looked at him oddly, not fully understanding what he was thanking her for. “You're very welcome, but I don't know what I did.”

Cyrus smiled, leaning over and kissing her gently. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, looking into her blue eyes. “For being being bright, wonderful and beautiful you, Alice.”

***********

Jafar was beside himself.

The loss of a guard meant nothing to him, that one was nothing more than a boy who could hardly do his job properly. So far as Jafar was concerned, the only thing Hadi had ever done right was bringing the genie to him after the mythical being had been bitten by the poisonous snake.

Obviously the lives of his guards meant little to him, as the two who had thought that to be a brilliant idea soon discovered it was an ill advised move. Finding new guards in Wonderland was a challenge, but disposing of them was no issue at all. Besides, he was down one prisoner so he would worry about replacing them once he recaptured his genie.

Then he would worry about finding the other two, and if they had masters he'd kill them and worry about the consequences. He regretted not attempting that with Alice, just to test the theory out. The other two genies had been easy to acquire, all he'd had to do was threaten their masters and they'd used their wishes in a hurry.

Self preservation was key with the masters of the other two genies. They saw what was contained in the bottle and lamp in their possession as an unfeeling entity, worthless unless there was just one wish left.

But then along came Alice, aggravating, troublesome and stubborn Alice. The only person he'd ever seen who actually saw a genie as something more than a magical slave to her will. Who actually knew her genie by name, and wanted to spend her life with him. Insufferable little Alice, in love with her genie.

Jafar sneered at the thought, as he poured over one of his many books. There had to be a spell to track down to the two genies he had lost. Finding the other would be simple enough, so he wasn't as worried. Let Cyrus believe he was safe for the time being, it really didn't matter. The sorcerer rather liked the idea of allowing him a false sense of security. The only person who could protect him was Anastasia, and that little girl did not possess power to rival his own. And he would require protection, as Jafar knew he'd never fully recover his strength from the silver and salt in his system. If he were human he would, but not as a genie.

Soon, he would have everything he desired. The laws of magic would be broken and he would destroy everyone who had ever doubted him, as well as make life a misery for those who even thought of challenging his authority.

A twisted grin came over Jafar's face, everything he could ever dream of would be his and it was coming closer to being a reality.

“Ah, I knew there was a location spell for what you've lost,” he said, reading over the words carefully so as not to mispronounce them when he spoke it aloud. He knew it took one wrong inflection of tone and he could end up with a very, very different result.

Magic had a cost, be it genie magic or otherwise, and he was not willing to pay dearly for a mistake that could easily be avoided.

After a few moments he closed the book, picking it up as he walked towards the shelf to place it back where it belonged. Normally he would use magic, but this time he wanted to look again at the empty bottle that soon Cyrus would find himself locked away in once more. And this time for eternity, as once he broke the laws of magic he would never allow that particular genie any semblance of freedom again.

His smirk turned to one of disbelief as he gazed upon the polished brass of the bottle, for right before his very eyes he saw it begin to crack, starting from the top and quickly racing in a jagged line towards the base. At first he thought it possible his eyes were playing tricks on him, but it was accompanied by an almost deafening sound. Brass being torn asunder right before his very dark eyes, and all he could do was watch his plans destroyed.

It seemed to span hours, but it was no more than a handful of seconds until he saw the empty genie bottle break apart in two, tumbling off the shelf and landing with a clamour upon the stone floor. He knelt down and lifted the two piece as whatever he had for a heart within his chest began to race.

Somehow, his plans were thwarted. The spell required this genie, there was no other like him and may never be again. Not many had the undying devotion to anyone to sacrifice their mortality and life for another. Jafar did not know how, but he'd lost.

Cyrus was free.

**********

Sarah glanced out at the rain soaked early evening sky, the normal pink and amber of sunset were dulled by the grey clouds the cold rain was falling from. She sighed softly as she balanced the tray with evening tea in one hand, pushing open the door to the spare room with the other.

This had become a nightly routine, taking tea in the room that Cyrus now occupied. Pari rarely would leave him alone, and if she wasn't with him then it was Alice or even Anastasia. That was when the woman wasn't with her beau, which baffled Sarah to no end.

From the stories she'd heard, most of what he'd done was unforgivable, in her eyes. She had tried to work her mind around all of it, but finally gave up and went with the old saying that love is blind. As well, each person was different, the offences were not something she would be so forgiving of, but she knew that another would see it in a different light.

Alice was moving towards forgiving her for all she'd done, for every unkind word and pushing her into the decision to leave for the asylum. If her step daughter could forgive such things, it truly wasn't a strange concept that Anastasia could find it somewhere in her heart to forgive Will all the things he'd said.

Quietly she closed the door behind her, taking in all who were in the room. On a chaise Millie was curled up, reading a book with an old rag doll by her side. She smiled at the sight, walking softly over to place a kiss on top of her daughter's dark hair, to which Millie just glanced up at her questioningly before turning her attention back to her book.

Sarah shook her head, walking towards the bed. She set the tray down on the dresser and began pouring the tea into the teacups. On one side of the bed sat Pari, singing the lullaby that had become very familiar to all in the house over the past few weeks. It seemed to be the one thing that brought her son comfort, as it turned out he became a bit upset at times as he was drifting off to sleep, believing this all to be an illusion created by the sorcerer who had held him captive.

Alice was laying on the bed with Cyrus, who was more asleep than awake. Normally she'd find that scandalous and in bad taste, as a lady should not be laying in a bed with a man she's not married to, no matter the circumstances. Yet, in this case she found it didn't shock her like it maybe should have. There was something innocent and sweet about their love for one another.

That wasn't to say they didn't argue, Sarah had heard them only hours ago in the middle of a very heated discussion. She had no idea what it was about, but had heard him becoming exasperated with how stubborn she could be, and her snapping about him being unreasonable. Whatever they'd been fighting about had either been worked out, or they'd simply agreed to disagree.

“He's still the same?” Sarah asked, setting a cup of tea down on the end table by Pari before walking around to the other side of the bed to take a seat with her own cup.

The other woman nodded, her song coming to an end. She reached over and ran her fingers through her son's wavy hair, a frown gracing her face. He'd not recovered as she thought he would. He still was easily worn out, the same as when he'd first been brought from Wonderland. It worried her, Cyrus had never been one to take ill for long, but she knew this was not the same as a virus. He wasn't human anymore, and she had no idea if he ever would be again.

Rumpelstiltskin had told her time and again she would be the one to break his curse, to free him from his bonds but he'd never bothered to tell her how. Whenever she'd asked, or demanded would be more to the point, he'd simply given her that aggravating little giggle and spun around on his heels, leaving the room. Even if she'd followed, her demands turning into the pleas of a desperate mother, he still would not share the information with her.

She could never decide if he was being flippant about it, or he simply did not know. Once he had told her that the future was not easily seen, and even harder to decipher. All he would ever say was he'd seen the binds fall away from Cyrus' wrists, and that she'd been the one to break the curse. If he knew more, she was never privy to it.

Pari sighed as Cyrus leaned into her touch, a content smile coming over his features as he slept. She often wondered if he knew that his curse could be broken, the way Alice spoke she had a feeling he did. The young woman had wondered at times when he'd seemed almost disappointed by a kiss, as though he'd thought her kiss would change everything.

It amused her in a way, her son still believed in those old tales of true love and the magic it held. Hundreds of years as a genie obviously hadn't broken him.

She looked up at Sarah, just as the sound of thunder was heard in the distance. “Your father was a doctor, was he not?”

Sarah nodded, fully aware of where this conversation was headed. She set her teacup aside, gathering her thoughts. “He was. I used to read his books when I was old enough, and sometimes would accompany him on house calls. If I could have followed his footsteps to become a doctor I would have, unfortunately that is not an option for women. But I told you this already.”

“I know,” Pari said, looking down at her son again. She'd tried when he slept, several times, to use magic to heal whatever was ailing him and it never worked. She hadn't expected it to, but thought it wouldn't hurt to try. “You must have a theory on why Cyrus is not recovering.”

“I do, although it has become more than a simple theory,” she answered. “According to Anastasia, the toxins were ingested. If it were simple burns to his skin they'd heal with time, but the body has a harder time healing internally. It could be years before he is back to himself again, if even then. I don't know a thing about genies.” She had been told what silver did if simply pressed to his skin, it was hard to say what it did internally. Sarah had a feeling if he could be freed, and become human once more, in a few days to a week at the most, he'd be fine. 

She wouldn't voice that, as she could tell Pari had already drawn that conclusion on her own. It would only pain the woman more, all she wanted was to free her son but she had no idea how.

Sarah glanced towards Millie, who had set her book aside and was at the dresser pouring herself a cup of tea. She could tell by the expression on her daughter's face she was thinking about something. The way her brow wrinkled just slightly always gave her away, and she had a habit of wrinkling her nose at regular intervals.

It occurred to her to ask Millie what she was giving such deep consideration, but decided against it. Her daughter hated being put on the spot, and by the way she'd glance over at the genie she had a feeling it had to do with a way to break the curse. Sarah shook her head slightly, how in a few short weeks did the concept of sorcerers, magic, genies and curses become so common place?

Pari sighed, once more running her fingers through her son's hair with one hand, the other reaching to grasp his own which was laying closest to her by his side on top of the quilt. All those years she'd dreamed of being reunited with him, in none had she envisioned their reunion quite the way it had played out. There were many scenarios that she'd thought of, ranging from finding his bottle on her own to having to end the life of a cruel master just to have him by her side once more.

The very idea of having to watch him spend the next year, at the very least, in some form of discomfort gave her great pain. This was not what she'd hoped for, or had desired for him. Had he not endured enough over the centuries, had they both? She was thankful to have her oldest son back in her life, yet she couldn't help the sorrow. If only she could do something to ease the suffering, to shorten however long this recovery would be so he could be the vibrant young man she'd known so long ago.

As the conversation continued around her, Alice felt her heart clench slightly within her chest as her hand reached up to grasp the pendent she'd worn for so long in Wonderland whilst searching for Cyrus. So many nights she'd wondered if she'd find him, and what state he'd be in when she would finally rescue him from Jafar's clutches.

She had underestimated him, the one thing Alice should have remembered was Cyrus could either talk or find a way out of any situation. She'd witnessed it time and again, so when her father had told her of his escape it shouldn't have been quite the surprise it had been.

Maybe that was why she'd been angered at Will's insistence they leave Wonderland when the situation was becoming dire. How she'd longed to snap at him to leave if he wanted, all he was in it for was that last wish, the one thing she was beginning to regret promising. The first two had been forced out of her, and in that moment Will was standing between her and her love.

He didn't believe in love, not in that moment. She knew he was helping her because she'd done a good deed for him in the past and for the wish. It had been killing her inside as he insisted they leave, run before they'd even found Cyrus, that she'd have to give him that wish. They didn't know where the bottle was, if Will made the wish there was a chance Cyrus would be lost to her all over again, and this time possibly forever.

Thankfully it hadn't ended that way, she hadn't been pleased with how everything played out afterwards, but he was here with her in England and alive. She could understand how Pari felt, and she knew Sarah wasn't trying to be discouraging with what she said. The woman was more a realist than someone who could imagine the possibilities to be had. Alice believed Cyrus would recover, and sooner than they all thought he would.

With a content sigh she rested her head on his shoulder, her hand still wrapped around the pendent that was glowing softly in the candlelit room. She knew everything would be fine, it would turn out favourably for them all. It was just a matter of time.

Pari smiled as Alice moved closer to her son, she was glad he'd found someone to love him. She knew he would, a mother always knew. It was going to take someone special to see the person within, and not see only a wish granting entity to do whatever they desired. Cyrus deserved to be loved just as much as the next person. It had torn her up to know what he'd given up for her, for all of them, but she knew at some point his good deed would be returned in kind and Alice was obviously the happiness he deserved.

She gave his hand a squeeze as she leaned over, pressing her lips against his forehead as she blinked back tears. If only there had been a way to keep his brothers alive, to keep her husband alive as well, so they could all be together again. Or as close to it as they could be without Nadira. But Rumpelstiltskin was only willing to extend a kindness to her, she couldn't imagine what he'd want in return to keep her other two sons alive. To her, the man all called the Dark One wasn't fully evil, but she knew full well he was only willing to help her, not her entire family.

Despite her effort to keep them at bay, one tear slipped away and fell upon Cyrus as she kissed him. All the years she had longed to see him again were in that moment, all the love she'd longed to shower upon him in the way only a mother could, all of it was in that kiss. She had him now though, and right then that was more than enough. If he was never meant to be free she could accept what she had, and it would be all she'd ever need.

Or so she thought.

Pari pulled away quickly, as did Alice. A mere second after the tear had fallen upon Cyrus he suddenly gasped, and jolted upright in his sleep. His eyes opened wide, glancing about the room for whatever had disturbed is sleep and settling his gaze upon his mother. “Cyrus, what is wrong?” she asked, reaching down to grasp the hand he'd pulled away from her when he'd suddenly woken.

“Look!” Millie cried out, pointing excitedly. She knew she wasn't supposed to do that, it was rude, but it wasn't as though she was making fun of anything. Her excitement was too much, and the theory she'd been harbouring had suddenly played out before her.

They all glanced down as they heard a loud snap, each shocked to see the ornate golden binds that encompassed the genie's wrists, keeping him tethered to his bottle, fall away. Even Sarah felt her mouth fall open slightly, this being the first time she'd actually witnessed anything magical up close.

As the binds fell from his wrists, they slowly crumbled into a fine, golden dust as they touched the quilt. They all watched with some level of disbelief shining in their eyes, but none was more pronounced then the gleam in Cyrus' eyes.

He'd known he would one day be free, but had given up any hope of it centuries prior. Only upon meeting Alice had that dream slowly been rekindled, and with each kiss it slowly died once more. Sorcerers lied, and so far as he was concerned the one he'd dealt with had told him nothing more than a falsehood to give him hope in something that could never be.

“How can this be?” Alice asked, her voice brimming with excitement. She reached down and lightly grasped one of Cyrus' wrists where a bind had been for centuries unknown to her.

Cyrus looked at her, his smile only growing. He was free, what he'd dared to hope for had finally come to pass. He had an idea on the how, but his excitement was so great he couldn't find his voice to even speak the words. All he could do was look from Alice to his mother, joy shining brightly in his dark eyes.

It was Millie who finally answered her older sister's question. “True love's kiss, that's how. Really Alice, I thought you knew all the stories about that,” she said, walking over to her mother and resting her head on the older woman's shoulder.

Alice grinned at the younger girl, stating she knew the stories well. But she still had no idea why her kiss had never, in all the years they'd been together, managed to free Cyrus. If it was true love's kiss that he required, did that mean their love wasn't true? The thought worried her, maybe she had not loved him enough or he wasn't truly in love with her.

Sensing her thoughts, Cyrus reached over and placed his hands on either side of her face before pulling her into a kiss. He didn't care they had an audience, or if there as some rules about what was proper in Victorian society. He was fairly certain if his father were still alive he'd be on the receiving end of yet another long lecture on how a prince should act.

But his father was not present, and he didn't even hear a disapproving sound from Sarah or his mother. The only indication of a reaction out of anyone was Millie, who giggled with girlish glee. As he pulled out of the kiss, he ran his fingers through Alice's long hair, smiling warmly at her. “Alice, it isn't that your love wasn't true or mine. I've not loved anyone as much as I love you, not even in an almost forgotten past.” He leaned his forehead against her's for a moment, in the same manner as that morning they had promised to never leave the other's side, looking into her blue eyes. “There are many types of love.”

His words, although Alice was intelligent and quick, confused her. To her, true love's kiss should have been between a man and a woman who loved each other more than anything else in the world. What Cyrus was saying, although to Millie and Sarah it was clear as day, she couldn't quite figure out. And it made Sarah's heart ache. How much did Edwin ignore his daughter after the death of his first wife to make her not realize what Cyrus was saying?

Sarah inclined her head to give her own daughter a light kiss on the top of her head, vowing once more to find a way to mend the bridges she'd burnt with the young woman. It would take a great deal of time, and she was well aware some hurt would never be mended, but no child should grow up not understanding the love between a parent and child.

Cyrus looked back to his mother, clasping one of Alice's hands in his, his smile only brightening. It was little wonder he'd never been told how the curse would be broken, and Gahdir had thought himself rather clever. Although spells were never something he'd been required to actually know, he was certain the sorcerer had created what kiss would break the spell with the purpose it would never happen. And it would have worked, except he'd underestimated the determination of a mother separated from her child.

Millie smiled as she watched Pari pull her son into a hug, she'd been imagining this since she'd heard the rather sad end of the tale that had been told to her. Of course, in her mind it hadn't been a rain soaked evening in her former play room, but it was still the happy ending she'd wanted.

“There is no love as true as that between a parent and their child,” Pari said, lightly kissing her son's hair. She looked over to Alice, giving her a warm smile. She understood that the young woman didn't grow up feeling the love she should have, which is why she'd spent so much time dashing off to Wonderland. In a way, it might have been fortunate, as she had found Cyrus.

She reached out and took hold of Alice's hand, squeezing it lightly. “I would never discredit the love you and my son share, but there are many different types. And if I remember Ghadir well, he wouldn't have allowed that curse to be broken so easily. Cyrus is the type who could find love, the truest and purest type there is, and even if it took centuries he would want to be sure the spell he cast could not be broken. So do not think your love was not enough, as you gave my son something he may never have had if you had not chanced on him. You gave him a reason to hope once more his curse could be broken.”

***********

To say Mrs. Slater was shocked would be an understatement. In all the years Pari was in her employment, she'd never heard her once mention having a son. Thinking back, she had no memory of the woman talking of being married. In fact the woman had never mentioned much about her personal life. All Mrs. Slater knew of her employee was that she could sew and that her name was Pari. Other than that she'd not really bothered to get to know the woman.

She had to admit the woman's son was quite handsome. She looked at Cyrus approvingly as he was teasing his fiancee, to which Pari was reprimanding him in a good mannered way. She could almost understand why Alice had gone a bit mad with distress thinking he was dead, if her own husband had been that fetching in their younger years she'd have been beside herself with grief as well.

Alice glared at Cyrus, trying her best to appear angry but failing miserably as the corner of her lips curved ever so slightly up in a smile. “You, my dear, are being quite terrible,” she told him, trying to sound insulting with no avail.

“It isn't my fault red is not your colour. I've told you it only suits Ana, on you it simply seems out of place,” he told her as she poked her tongue out at him. Cyrus rolled his eyes, laughing. “Oh Alice, whatever shall I do with you?”

“Love me, with all your heart and soul until time ends,” she answered, reaching out from where she stood to grasp his hands in hers.

Pari simply shook her head, trying to contain her laughter at the banter. Whatever fate had decided to send Alice walking into her son's bottle, she was thanking every day for that bit of good fortune. It was good to see him once more the young man she remembered in centuries past. He was no longer a prince, not in this world, as she was no longer the wife of a Shah, but he was still her first born and every bit the man he used to be.

He still had a few idiosyncrasies from his time as a genie. She'd noticed he wouldn't touch silver, until he recalled he was no longer a mythical being the metal could harm. Cyrus also had a dislike of salt, and would never put it on his food. The dislike was so strong that she'd quit cooking with the seasoning, as he couldn't stand the taste of it.

It had been a month since the curse had been broken, and after a week of recovery Cyrus had been able to be moved. Edwin had sworn they could both stay in his home, but Pari had been feeling a bit selfish and wanted Cyrus all to herself. Her flat wasn't big, but it had room enough for them both. And despite her son's adoration for Alice and desire to be with her as much as possible, he did not argue the move.

He seemed more than content to be living in a small flat in London with his mother, which pleased her. Pari would do anything for him, if he'd wanted to stay in Edwin's country home she would have allowed him that, but was glad he had wanted to be with her.

Cyrus had insisted on being with her, stating he'd enjoyed many years with Alice so far, and would have more still, but he had spent centuries longing for his mother. He needed to be with her, and Alice was understanding of it. She'd even been willing to put off their wedding for awhile, just to allow them time together.

A slight tug on the fabric she was pinning for Alice's new dress caused her to frown, she thought she'd told the other to stand perfectly still as she went about finding where it should be hemmed. Although telling Alice to stand still was about as impossible as telling Cyrus anything about the customs he should have followed all those lifetimes ago as a crown prince.

She glanced up slightly to see Alice leaning down to kiss her son. A smile graced her face as she watched them, thanking whatever higher power there was once more that Alice had discovered her son's bottle.

Cyrus frowned as Alice pulled out of the kiss, he was not ready to end it yet. He enjoyed kissing her, he loved every second they spent together. It didn't matter if they were kissing or simply holding hands. They could sit in perfect silence side by side, and it was more than enough for him and he knew she felt the same. He smiled at her as she straightened back up to allow his mother to finish the work on her new dress.

“I swore I would never leave you Alice, and I meant it. Nothing shall part us, I will love you for as long as we live, and throughout whatever awaits us after this life. You will never be without me.”

And Cyrus meant every word of it.


	12. Welcome to Storybrooke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one enjoys dusting, more when it is a particular pawn shop and your papa won't humour you to use magic to finish the job. The tedious task at hand does take a more favourable turn when some strangers come calling, and one turns out to be an old friend of the Dark One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.

There were many moments he was opposed to magic, that was never going to change. He hadn't cared for it in the past, and even now he didn't truly care for it after it had torn him from the one person he had counted on. So far as he was concerned it had destroyed his family. Of course there was a lot more to it, but magic was a major part of it. Yet in this exact moment Neal wouldn't be against the use of magic, at all.

“Papa, I don't know why you don't just use some magic to dust this place. There is too much stuff, this will take all day,” he complained, moving some random objects back to the shelf they'd been on. If Neal was asked he'd likely say it had taken hours just to dust that shelf, solely due to all the items normally kept on it. Magic had its perks, and right then he'd love to see his father work some of it.

Rumpel glanced over at his son, smiling. It would be easy to use magic, and he'd done it before just to have the tedious task over and done with, but it had been centuries that he'd been separated from his Bae, the son he would do anything for and had. If he had to rope him into dusting the shop to spend more time with him, he would. “Now where would be the fun in that Bae?” he teased, a glint of mirth in his eyes. “Besides, I wouldn't want to start using magic now, as you're quite against it.”

Neal glared at the older man, annoyance dancing on his face. “The fun would be this would be finished,” he answered in a tight voice. He'd reconciled with his father not long after coming to Storybrooke, but he could think of far more interesting ways to spend time together. “And this once I could overlook magic, if it would just get this over with.”

The other man shrugged, turning his attention back to the shelf he had been pulling items down off of to be polished. There weren't a lot that truly required such treatment, but those that did he made sure received it. No one ever really bought anything other than small trinkets, or walked through the door demanding what was their's, but the shop looked much better if everything was in pristine shape.

A smile tugged at his lips as he pulled down the genie lamp, his mind wandering for a moment. He slowly applied the polish before taking a cloth to it, thinking back on one of his more favoured students. One that wasn't looking to learn magic for selfish purposes, a refreshing change. Not that he hadn't tried to find some selfish motivation in her desire to learn the art, and had been slightly disappointed at first to discover nothing to exploit and warp into what he needed. After he'd realized she truly was longing for the same thing as he, they'd fallen into some sort of friendship. Of course he'd foreseen her reunion with her son, but as the future was hard to fully understand he thought it possible he could find something in her to twist into some kind of darkness. Ever since, he'd been glad there had not been. He had enjoyed the fact she'd not been afraid of him, and had found their spirited arguments entertaining.

There were days still that Rumpel would think of Pari, and wonder if she'd found her son. Just because he'd foreseen it, didn't mean he knew when the event she so desired would occur. He glanced towards his own child, who was grumbling to himself as he moved a few things off a shelf to continue with the most hated task of dusting. Most thought him evil and without feeling, but that truly wasn't the case. Like many, the world had eventually taught him to be uncaring to the plight of others, and when he'd lost his son he'd decided it best not to let anyone in.

He had realized over time that Bae leaving had been his own fault, and he knew he could have gone with him through the portal. But to go back to being powerless, to a nobody, after finally possessing power was a difficult choice to make. He had quickly regretted the decision made in a moment of panic and had despaired at ever finding his child again.

Villains didn't get happy endings, at least that was what he'd been led to believe. But maybe, once in awhile they got a chance to know what happiness can feel like.

“Papa, are you constantly rubbing that thing figuring a genie is going to suddenly appear” Neal asked, walking over to where his father stood. He'd noticed him rubbing the polish over the lamp for the last five minutes or so, which was rather odd. The thing was already gleaming, there wasn't much more to do. “Are you getting a little dotty in your old age?”

Before Rumpel could answer the little bell over the door rang, signalling someone had come into the shop. They both looked over to see a young man they didn't recognize from around town. He was one that would have stuck in their minds, with his dark, curly hair and olive complexion. Despite his rather plain dress there was a bit of a regal air about him, and Rumpel could sense a slight lingering of magic about him.

Behind him came in two women, one with long dark blonde wavy hair and bright curious eyes which were taking in everything she saw with wonder and delight. The other had blonde hair in an updo and radiated magic. But they weren't of interest to Rumpel, it was the last of their party that brought a full smile to his face. Setting the lamp aside he walked over to the newcomers, amused that the first to walk into the shop was likely well acquainted with what the item he'd just set down could contain.

“Pari, I am pleased to see you once more. It has been far too long,” he greeted, walking over and extending a hand towards her.

She smiled brightly at him, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “It has Rumpel, but I could not come to see you again until I found what I desired. And then there was some disturbance in the Enchanted Forest, everyone seems to be gone. You wouldn't have a hand in that, would you?” Pari was well aware what the answer was going to be, but couldn't resist bothering him for old time's sake.

A slightly bashful grin came over him, as he tilted his head to the side. “I could have, but you are well aware I never show my hand,” he answered. Nodding towards the younger three, he asked who they were, even though he knew fully the identity of the young man. If the resemblance to Pari wasn't enough, the lingering magical aura which clung to him would have tipped him off as well.

Pari turned to her son, a radiant smile gracing her face. There were moments she still couldn't believe she finally had him back, she expected to wake up and find this to be nothing more than a dream sent to taunt her. “Rumpelstiltskin, this is my son Cyrus, as well as his fiancee Alice and their friend Anastasia, the former Red Queen of Wonderland,” she told him, as each nodded at the mention of their name.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all, you especially Cyrus as I have heard many tales about you from your mother.” Rumpel tried not to laugh as the young man quirked an eyebrow curiously. “All good, I assure you, with a touch of mischief thrown in for good measure. I do have to ask though, as none of you have actually been to Storybrooke, how did you know of this town?” Strangers didn't find this place, and even though Pari was no stranger to him she was not part of the curse.

It almost seemed a pity, as he gave it consideration, his dark curse hadn't pulled her and Cyrus into Storybrooke. They could have been reunited much sooner, but then he had no idea what exactly it would have done to a genie. It would have been a horrible turn of events if he'd had twenty eight years of freedom in the company of his mother, only to be drawn back into his bottle when the curse broke as he couldn't imagine the spell to make him a genie would have been broken by a different curse.

“My friend Will Scarlet, he told me about this place awhile ago,” Alice offered up, smiling. He talked of the town quite a bit, as well as the people who resided within it, so she fancied he must be well liked among the inhabitants.

Rumpel frowned at the name, wondering why the girl was friends with a thief. “That explains why Emma was commenting the other day on the decline in petty thefts these past months. I take it he was out of town.”

“He was in Wonderland, helping Alice to find Cyrus,” Anastasia said. “Truthfully, it is a bit of a story really.”

“Well, I enjoy stories. It might make dusting this place go by quicker,” Neal muttered, walking over to the assembled group. The idea of suggesting to put the dusting off in favour of the story to be told crossed his mind, but then he'd just have to resume the hateful task later.

Rumpel nodded, he was curious how a genie had managed to fall in love with someone, he'd never heard of that but then he knew Cyrus hadn't been a genie to begin with. He'd also heard of a spell to break the laws of magic using three particular genies, the fact it turned out the one had been born human actually made sense. One law being the inability to make someone fall in love, to break it he fancied it would require one who had an unfailing belief in it. “Maybe the tale would be better suited to being told over tea. Once we finish cleaning and now I suppose I should start keeping inventory, with Scarlet back in town.”

That was a bit of a surprise comment to Alice, she had honestly thought he was well liked in the town with the stories he'd told. Although, when she thought about it, most of his tales were of with people at a place called The Rabbit Hole, giving her the impression it was somewhere alcohol was likely in abundance.

Anastasia, on the other hand, couldn't help the smirk. “I see he has yet to give up old habits, one would think he would know better than to get on the wrong side of the Dark One.”

Rumpel laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Well, there is no accounting intelligence at times. I will admit he had some nerve, considering the amount of thefts he pulled off shortly after time began to move again. Some just like the challenge, but I haven't turned anyone into a pig recently, not to mention I do have my ways to protect my shop from unwanted theft.”

“Wonderful, well can we get this done so we can have some tea and hear this story? I wouldn't mind knowing how you met Pari.” Neal had concluded just by the way she and her son carried themselves they were likely of royal blood, which was a touch baffling as to why his father would associate with them. In all his memories, his father had little love for royals.

Anastasia took a sweeping glance of the rather cluttered, in her opinion, room. It would be hours before the task was complete and she was in no mood to wait. With a flick of her wrist, she took care of the hideous chore the Dark One seemed intent on continuing with. “Tiresome past time darlings. Trust me, you would prefer to get to tea and the story now as it is long and I'm sure we'd all like to get to our beds at a decent hour.”

“Are you staying in Storybrooke?” Neal asked, watching Cyrus as he moved away from the group and started to wander. He found it strange how he would pick up random objects to look them over, yet hesitated when it was silver. Seemed an odd habit, but he did look like he was a pleasant person.

While his father explained to Alice, as well as Anastasia, why they might want to be a little more selective in their choice of friends as well as paramours, he walked over to the young man who had seemingly not heard his previous question. “Hey, my name is Neal, or Baelfire, depending on who you talk to.”

Cyrus nodded, smiling. “My name is Cyrus, it is a pleasure to meet you Neal,” he said, glancing up towards the ceiling. “May I ask you a question?”

Neal grinned, he could see where this was going. If he hadn't become accustom to certain advancements in Victorian England, before finding himself in Neverland, he'd likely find all the technology around him strange as well when he'd first found himself in this realm. “Yeah, fire away. I take it you just arrived in Storybrooke in the last few hours.”

“We did, and have not become overly acquainted with everything in this strange place. In all truth, this is the strangest land I've ever been too and I've been many places,” he explained, turning his attention back to the other man. “How do you manage to light all those little candles in the enclosed light fixtures? And how do they not end up snuffed out? I've been wondering this since we arrived, but Alice's friend was less than helpful with an answer.” Less than helpful was an understatement. Will had become slightly frustrated with all their questions, so they'd parted ways after he'd told Pari where to find her old friend. The former genie figured Will just wanted some peace and quiet, or to reacquaint himself with whatever it was he kept talking about concerning a telly.

Neal laughed, shaking his head. It was an interesting way to describe the lights, but then to someone who had never seen electricity before it would be some curiosity. “Well, it is called electricity. Tell me, are you planning to stay in Storybrooke for awhile?”

Cyrus nodded. “We are, as time does not move the same between realms we have the opportunity to stay here for awhile, and then return to Alice's home if we so please.” He smiled at Neal, keen on getting to know some of the people in this strange town, as well as seeing more of the place as well. “I do hope we stay for awhile, I've never seen anything quite like this town.”

Neal laughed, throwing an arm around Cyrus. He didn't know the full story, but he knew the look in Pari's eyes; she'd gone through a lot to be reunited with her son. It was the same gleam he'd catch shining in his father's when he thought no one was paying attention. There truly was no love, or magic, stronger than that of a parent for their child.

“Well, in case no one has said it yet, welcome to Storybrooke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words cannot express how sorry I am this took so long. I sadly do not have the time I once had to write, which depresses me in more ways than I can say. If I'm not overwhelmed with children, I'm cleaning up after them or doing laundry so I have clothing and bibs for the week. I had hoped to have had this posted on Friday but found out at the last minute I was babysitting again...
> 
> Anyway, I do have more stories jotted down or partially started in the OUATIW fandom, or that AU series I started almost a year ago. I have many ideas for Alice, Cyrus and Anastasia...just next time they will be almost complete before I begin posting so there is never a delay like this ever again. I know how frustrating it is to get into a story and then to see it just sit unfinished.
> 
> I hope it was worth the long wait though.

**Author's Note:**

> At the moment this shall have a bi-weekly update schedule. I have a few other stories, as well as an original, on the go. So every second Monday. :)
> 
> I hope this is enjoyable, it feels pretty ambitious to me but I was left feeling rather let down after the end of that episode, I loved all the Alice & Cyrus, as well as his interactions with Anastasia, but the ending with a touch predictable, so had to write something. I imagine my back story for Cyrus won't be anything like what they've got planned either, it is a crime they've not done much with him, still.


End file.
